Trytoloveme

#DAY 0.5: FORGET THE PLANE; I’M SWIMMING THERE.

"No, wait. — I can't believe this actually happened."

Taehyung stopped walking in an absurdly abrupt way right in the middle of the airport. A woman who had to be at least sixty years old swerved — or rather, was forced to swerve — around his suitcase and shot him an indignant, outraged look; you could swear you heard her mutter some kind of curse at him.

As Taehyung dramatically carried on, Juria kept walking beside you; both of you were already accustomed to his reactions. Shaking your head, you glanced down at your phone as you made your way through the crowded terminal. Notifications were piling up on the screen, messages from the wedding group chat coming in nonstop, boarding reminders, and emails you kept pretending you would answer later.

An urgent meeting at the publishing house you worked for? — Or a coworker considering changing your time off? — That was a problem for future you; and that future version of yourself was about to inherit one hell of a mess.

"It happened, Tae." — Sometimes, the things that happened at your best friend’s workplace sounded like stories that could easily show up on Reddit or as the narration of some TikTok

"Juria, you’re lying." — Taehyung tried to catch up with your pace, nearly tripping over his own suitcase. It was easier — and safer — to carry the oldest’s suitcase and let him handle yours; judging by the number of near-accidents that morning, the theory was proving itself right. — In response, the redhead simply answered, “unfortunately, i’m not.”

At that hour — 9:12 A.M. to be exact — the airport was packed; you couldn’t believe there would be such a huge crowd on a tuesday. People crossed the terminal in every direction, announcements echoed through the speakers, and the smell of coffee mixed with expensive perfume and air conditioning created a strangely unpleasant combination.

Not to mention the endless check-in lines, children running between suitcases, groups of young people gathered near the international departures holding phones and discreet signs, and the constant feeling that some celebrity was about to walk through the terminal. — For a moment, you tried narrowing your eyes to make out the name written on the signs, but eventually gave up.

Did Jin invite the entire world to his wedding?

Pulled from your thoughts, you felt your phone vibrate. New messages had appeared in the group chat — and you were fully aware that this was, at least, the sixth version of its name in less than forty-eight hours; every single one involved or mentioned the groom’s name. — You didn’t waste any time opening them.

jin (09:17 A.M): updates on my favorite guests?

jin (09:18 A.M): EVERYONE LEFT THE HOUSE?

hoseok (09:21 A.M): we've been at the airport for ten minutes, hyung

you (09:24 A.M): can you believe Taehyung almost ran over an elderly lady?

"Ha, ha,." — Taehyung faked a laugh, keeping an ironic, grumpy expression on his face. Reaching over, you lightly pinched his cheek with your fingers. — "The funniest person i know." — After making it through security, the three of you decided to wait for the rest of the group, settling down near the boarding area. — "Seven days."

"Yeah." — You replied, looking down at your phone. Juria had posted a picture of the airport entrance and tagged you and Taehyung. You heard him mutter something along the lines of “seven whole days” and turned toward him. — "Still seven days."

"Basically, it’s a spiritual retreat, and no one is going to believe it." — Juria sighed at the man’s assumption. Taehyung had mentioned the exact same thing on the way to the airport. Since she was standing beside you, you caught the look of disbelief on your best friend’s face. — "Usually, it’s around this many days." — No. It probably takes months, you thought.

"Taehyung, do you even know what happens at a spiritual retreat?"

jimin (09:41 A.M): namjoon left his ID on the café table near the entrance

juria (09:41 A.M): yay

namjoon (09:43 A.M): important to mention that i already have it in my hands

taehyung (09:45 A.M): we’re at the boarding gate, by the way

jimin (09:47 A.M): arriving in five minutes ;)

Without breaking their promise, the small group met up with you within the agreed-upon time — something that honestly surprised you. Of the four guys, only Namjoon was wearing glasses, clutching his passport like his life depended on it — or like he had only just managed to get it back. You couldn’t help but feel secondhand embarrassment. They seemed to be talking about something and, if you had to bet your money on it, Namjoon’s passport was probably the subject of conversation.

As you got closer, you could hear Yoongi gesturing animatedly and saying something along the lines of, “…almost made us miss the flight.” You knew you could’ve made some good money on that bet. It didn’t take long for everyone to settle into their seats, waiting for their flight to board; the countdown showed one hour and three minutes remaining. — In the meantime, you sipped the coffee Hoseok had bought you while listening to Yoongi and Namjoon’s conversation. You could have looked for the book that was probably buried somewhere at the bottom of your bag, but you decided to save it for the flight instead. — Not really involved in the conversation, you stayed on your phone, occasionally feeling Jimin glance over and look at your screen. You didn’t mind, nor did it bother you.

Another notification from the group chat. — Unlike the previous ones, this message belonged to someone who hadn’t said a single word all morning; and whose number wasn’t saved in your contacts. And, honestly, you had no intention of saving it anytime soon.

Before the message came through, you had been watching some video. You paused it, but never went back to it; your thumb hovered over the notification icon. You didn’t know whether to open it immediately or wait a few minutes before checking it.

+XX XXXX-XXXX (10:15 A.M): i just arrived. Where are you guys?

Unfortunately — without any dramatic twist — the world did not stop. The airport didn’t fall silent, the announcements didn’t cease, and the people rushing through the corridor in front of you didn’t suddenly disappear. Children didn’t stop screaming and laughing, either. — You read the message once. Then again. And once more, making it three times in total. It was simple. Nothing surprising or particularly special. But your stomach twisted in an unsettling, strange way. You were used to his presence, but in this case, you were being forced to deal with it. — Sometimes, in fact, most of the time, it felt as though that one year and seven months had never existed at all; on either side.

Funny, it had been almost two years. Long enough to delete a contact, erase a profile; long enough to pretend certain memories didn’t resurface at the most inconvenient, unnecessary moments. — Taking a slow breath, you tried to ignore the tightness in your chest.

My God,. — It was your friend’s wedding. There was no room for emotional plot twists, inconvenient nostalgia, or feelings that insisted on coming back without an invitation. — Of course Jin would never, under any circumstances, choose between one of you for such an important moment in his life; and you had known that from the moment you received the invitation.

namjoon (10:18 A.M): we are in the departure lounge

namjoon (10:18 A.M): do you want me to pick you up?

+XX XXXX-XXXX (10:20 A.M): no need, hyung ;)

Your thoughts were pulled away from whatever spiral they had been heading into when you heard Jimin call your name, asking if you were okay. In response, you murmured a quiet “yes” and returned your attention to your phone, hoping to find something that could distract you. The whole situation was, frankly, embarrassing. — So you thought about the book in your bag again. Something to keep your mind occupied.

After a few seconds of wrestling with tangled earphones and chargers inside your bag, you finally found the book at the bottom, its edges slightly crumpled; but you barely had time to open it. — Hoseok suddenly called for everyone’s attention, interrupting the various side conversations around you. You automatically lifted your eyes in his direction; and only then realized you hadn’t noticed him arriving.

Well, some part of your consciousness definitely had not been avoiding looking toward the entrance of the boarding area. Definitely not. — That would have been ridiculous. Childish, even.

Jungkook was there, a few steps behind Hoseok. — A black backpack hung from his left shoulder, his earphones resting around his neck, not to mention the suitcase he was carrying. He looked more… comfortable, for lack of a better word. Something about Jeon had changed, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what; His haircut? Did he look stronger than the last time you saw him? — maybe it was simply because it had been two months since you had last seen him in person. — No. Stalking his Instagram profile definitely didn’t count as human contact or any kind of contact, for that matter.

Your gaze dropped from his face, and you noticed that the labret was no longer on his lip, though the piercing at the corner of his mouth remained firmly in place.

Wait. — Why did you even care about that?

As if he could feel you staring, Jungkook lifted his eyes toward you. You had never been good at hiding absolutely anything, and you hated that about yourself. However, the eye contact didn’t last long because you both immediately turned your attention back to Hoseok’s words.

"..so, can we go?"

"Shit, i forgot we’re separated." — While standing in line for boarding, you heard Jimin grumble behind you. Jin had taken responsibility for everyone’s tickets, insisting on handling everything himself. According to him, the flight was completely full, and there was no way to guarantee seats next to each other for everyone; though he hadn’t ruled out the possibility.

"Three hours, Jimin" — You tried to reassure him. The line began moving quickly. When it was your turn, you handed your passport and boarding pass to the airline employee, receiving an automatic smile in return. It didn’t take long before you continued toward the plane. Looking down at your boarding pass, you checked your seat number; 18A. — Window seat. At least you’d have a nice view for the next three hours.

Dodging people who had stopped in the middle of the aisle to arrange coats, backpacks, and their entire lives inside the overhead compartments, you made your way down the plane. — One man nearly smacked you in the face with an enormous backpack while hurriedly trying to shove it into the compartment, forcing you to awkwardly lean to the side; courtesy really was a magical thing.

Adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder, you finally found your seat. It was empty, which brought a small sense of relief to your chest. At least you’d have a few minutes of peace before finding out who would be occupying the seats beside you. — It was impossible to deny that you struggled a little with getting your suitcase into the overhead compartment; you spent a good while wrestling with it, trying to find the right angle to make it fit. — Once it was finally in place, all that remained was your bag, which would stay with you throughout the flight.

Allowing yourself to sit down, you settled comfortably into the seat. You pulled your book and earphones from your bag and rested your head against the headrest, taking a deep breath as you watched the activity outside the window; ground crew members walked across the tarmac, luggage carts crossed the apron, and the late-morning sky was almost obnoxiously clear.

Your phone vibrated almost immediately.

jin (10:55 A.M): is everyone on the plane?

Um sorriso escapou dos seus lábios antes mesmo de responder.

you (10:55 A.M): yes, dad

Because you were focused on your phone, you didn’t notice someone standing beside your row. They were probably looking for space for their suitcase; and you were right. There was movement in the overhead compartment, and you could only hope your own suitcase hadn’t been shoved to the very back beneath everyone else’s bags; you prayed it hadn’t.

Then a low, familiar voice — far too familiar — sounded in your direction, and you immediately realized who was standing there. And instantly regretted everything.

"Excuse me,.."

Your thumb froze against your phone screen as another notification popped up. — Honestly, you were seriously considering switching to Do Not Disturb. — Slowly, you lifted your eyes toward the owner of the voice.

But rationally, the discomfort from recent events lingers, slowly swallowing you whole. And no matter how hard you try to pretend you can go back to how things were two years ago, too much has happened – there’s no way back.

Dwelling on the past never helped anyone. It only tortures you.

It’s strange – your thoughts spiral as you desperately try to pinpoint exactly what you’re feeling. It’s confusing, painful, and frustrating.

None of the things you’ve done or experienced with Jungkook do you regret. You know very well that, at the time, it was exactly what you wanted – and you acted on instinct. You lived in the present.

Yes, you may have had moments where you told yourself you’d fucked up, that you’d acted purely on your needs and wants. But looking back now, you don’t actually regret it. Maybe you convinced yourself you did – but you don’t anymore.

It was your doing. Yours and Jungkook’s. Two adults who consented to all of it.

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to let it go that far. Maybe you should’ve never crossed the line from being best friends whose closest contact was a tight hug.

But God. You’re insufferable.

Just thinking about all the tension, excitement, and joy makes your toes curl, and you feel defeated knowing you won’t experience it again. Stupid–yes, you’re aware. You’re so fucking stupid.

But if you want to bring your friendship back, you have to set a boundary. No physical contact beyond a hug. No kisses. No intimate touches. No sex.

Just you and Jungkook, writing a new chapter. You know you probably won’t be able to return to the friendship you had years ago – but it’s time to work on it, to get as close as possible. That’s your wish.

Things are awkward for now. But there’s still a fragile, hopeless kind of hope that you’ll be able to work it out somehow.

Small steps, you tell yourself.

Standing at the airport, waiting in line to board the plane, feels like leaving something behind. In a way, you are. Once you’re back in Korea, something unknown and uncertain is waiting for you – especially when it comes to your relationship with Jungkook and how it will continue.

Even your interactions with him have been reduced to a minimum. You’ve only talked about basic things – whether you packed everything before leaving the beach house, the cab’s arrival, the flight departure, or whether you were hungry while waiting to board.

Here and there, he shows you his screen – a few funny videos he’s scrolled past on TikTok. You don’t blame him. He’s trying. But is this how it’s going to be?

Even on the way to Hawaii, with your hands always finding each other, there was nothing hollow between you. Now, it’s different.

And even though you understand the reasons why, it’s still hard to come to terms with.

“Want something?”

“–Hm?” Interrupted by your never-ending thoughts, Jungkook’s voice cuts through them.

He and the flight attendant both look at you, waiting for an answer. The flight attendant – perfectly neat – stands in the aisle, pushing a cart with meals. Jungkook holds his card in hand, ready to pay for the coffee about to be handed to him.

“Um–no, I’m good. Thanks.” You give her a small smile. Jungkook pays, and you turn to stare out the window, met with the same stretch of white clouds you’ve been watching for at least an hour.

Jungkook’s been staring at his phone, too polite to put on headphones and completely zone you out. There’s just nothing you could possibly say to him without feeling the strange atmosphere between you. You’ve tried to make conversation, but it always feels off – ending too quickly, which is probably for the best. At least then it’s not unbearably awkward.

It feels like you’ve run out of topics altogether.

You’ve tried – who’s picking you up from the airport. Whether Taehyung and Jimin reached out. If he’s ready to get back to work.

Just the basics, deliberately skipping anything about the actual vacation. You know it’s waiting for you as soon as you land.

He sips his coffee, not questioning your choice to decline anything. You close your eyes, desperate to clear your thoughts and focus on getting some rest. It takes a while, but eventually you drift into a light nap – still aware of your surroundings, even of Jungkook briefly speaking to a flight attendant who’s gathering trash as he tosses the paper cup away.

You’re not sure how much time passes by, keeping your eyes closed until a soft hand gently shakes you out of your daze.

“We’re here.” Jungkook announces, briefly met with your eyes opening as he unbuckles his seatbelt. 

Here comes the reality. 

“So–let me get this straight… you two went to Hawaii alone, got into a fight because of another woman and man, then ended up having sex?”

If you could curl up in a ball and hide yourself from Maya’s brown eyes, you would do that instantly. You haven’t even told her all the details and her summary actually fits. First of all, you weren’t planning on telling anyone what went down. But she has a great detective way of asking. One look at your face and she knew you two ended up hooking up again. 

“Well–technically yes.”

You told her the part around Nara and Gabriel, reasoning why you’ve done it and up to your satisfaction, she understands why you’ve done it. 

You’re currently at hers and Namjoon’s place, luckily Namjoon’s hanging out with friends. 

“And what was the reason for ending it?”

You look at her in bewilderment as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Wait–you don’t have any cameras here, right?” 

Maya snorts, but there’s nothing wrong with being delusional. You don’t need Namjoon checking any potential footage randomly and hearing the unbelievable story of yours. Not to mention he’s one of Jungkook’s good friends – not that it means anything – but it’s not on your wishlist for anyone else to know. 

“No, not yet. We’re planning to buy one because after the wedding I would like to raise a puppy, so we probably will need cameras around here.”

“Puppy?” you snort, “I'm pretty sure you two have other priorities once the honeymoon starts.”

Maya laughs, looking suddenly sheepishly. “You don’t have to worry about any cameras. So kiss and tell.”

“I probably won’t kiss anyone any time soon–for my sake.” 

Maya laughs again, finding humorous your sarcastic coping. Well, at least you’re trying to joke about certain things. 

“Why would you end it?”

“Maya, come on–” you tsk, shaking your head.

“What? You know my thoughts on this. You’re both single and hot people. You just fit–in all kinds of ways.”

You grab a pillow and throw it at her. Her laugh resounds through the entire living room as she totally forgets the bag that’s been delivered to her. She’s sitting on the couch, a box long forgotten as she seems to eat up every word that’s coming out of your mouth.

“We kept going in circles, Maya. No matter how many times we ended it, somehow we always just ended up–”

“Having the best sex of your lives?”

“Maya, I swear–”

“Sorry, I know it looks like I’m taking it lightly but I just don’t understand what you’re so scared of. If it feels right, who cares?”

“Because it’s not right.” you argue.

She looks shocked, “Oh…”

“It’s not right, in all forms and ways possible. We–I had a pregnancy scare.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “It made me realize that if the test–if I ended up pregnant, our whole lives would change and that scared me. None of us want that and it was the last drop. We were careless. It keeps ruining our friendship.”

“Friendship?” Maya cocks her brow. Curls tighten in a wide ponytail as her coconut oil fills your senses. “Honey, it’s a relationship by now, no friendship.”

“There’s no relationship.”

“I–” she stops for a second, collecting her thoughts before she opens her mouth again. “Understand what you mean and we don’t have to define the term. I just mean–yeah friends sometimes fuck but you said it yourself. You and Jungkook kept going in circles. You’re both attracted to each other, hell, I don’t think I know anyone personally that would have that much attraction to one another. You can’t get enough of each other. Why just let it be and see where it gets you? If you guys wanna fuck, so be it.”

“I just told you. I don’t need to be reckless, end up knocked up by my friend–that would just complicate everything, not to mention I don’t want kids now. I don’t want it with someone I sleep with.”

“What are you scared of? Hm?” she asks softly. “Are you scared of love?”

You almost choke on your spit, “I don’t love him!”

She cocks her brow, “You sure?”

“I mean I do–not in that way though.”

“Because you don’t let yourself.”

“I don’t need to,” you argue. “A relationship could get messy and I don’t want to lose him. I don’t need to try it just for fun, what happened in Hawaii opened my eyes.”

“I understand,” she says, “Have you guys talked since you arrived? Taehyung was your drive, right?”

“Yeah he was,” you nod, “He obviously asked how the vacation was and all sorts of questions. You know Taehyung. And as for us talking–no. I mean we do have a group chat and we both chatted there, but we don’t really interact directly there.”

“Awh, I’m sorry. You’re sad.”

You try to fix your face from whatever expression there was. “No, I’m okay. I don’t expect everything to be just back to how it was. I think we both need some space before we can see each other.”

“Hey–aren’t you supposed to meet next week? I heard Namjoon about them hanging out at that new place around the corner from where Jungkook lives. I’m pretty sure Joon mentioned you will be there too.”

“I mean–I agreed to come, I just–”

“No, no, no. You won’t decline and you have to go, Y/N!” she almost whines. “The more you keep your distance, the more it will affect you. If you want things to go back to normal, you have to get through this uncomfortable and awkward phase.”

“I know, I know. I’m aware.. I’m just scared of what the dynamic will be.”

“I understand. But I might be there as well. We can just hang out. There’s too many men anyway.” She rolls her eyes as if men bothered you. 

You chuckle, “You’re about to get married.”

“Yeah, can’t believe it’s happening. But men are men, come on.” she jokes, both of you laughing together.

“Good thing there aren’t any cameras here, huh?” you joke, another crack of loud laughter easing the topic.

“Well, well, well–if this isn't a full-time beach bum. Finally came to do some work?”

The familiar voice sends shivers down your spine as you can feel the eyes burning your back. Turning around, you’re met with one and only person who would have the guts to call you that so openly and shamelessly. You would’ve laughed at the nickname, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 

Min Yoongi stands there, with fully ironed button-ups and hair slightly longer than you remember them to be. He looks neat, wearing one of his fancy colognes you faintly can smell in the air. 

To be completely honest, you kind of like seeing a fresh face that reminds you of your work-life, even though there’s a subtle annoyance, of course. You would never admit it out loud and minus the annoyance, you’re glad to see another man’s face that you interact on a daily basis with. Not that you want to. Since you work together, you’re forced to interact – even though you barely do if it’s not some snarky remarks to annoy the other or something work related.

“Just say you’ve missed me, don’t be shy.” The coffee machine behind you makes a noise while it starts pouring coffee, as Yoongi’s lips curl into disgust. 

The sight makes your lips twitch in amusement. 

“The only thing I’m missing is the air without your presence.”

“Ouch–” you feign hurt, a palm over your heart. “It’s okay. I know deep down you’ve missed me.”

“Yeah, sure,” he rolls his eyes.

“You came here to talk to me. That proves my point.”

“It proves nothing. I came here to make myself a coffee.” he points out and although you feel your cheeks pinch from the burn, you regain your posture and eye-him up and down. 

“God, I almost forgot how annoying you are.”

“My pleasure.” he smiles sarcastically. 

“I’m sure it is. Feels like tormenting me is the only pleasure you’re getting.” You make sure he sees the tight, forced smile as he scoffs, briefly looking away.

He wets his bottom lip. “Really?” he asks, a hint of challenge in his voice. “How many times did you have sex with that best friend of yours?”

For a brief moment, you feel heat rise to your cheeks and the back of your neck under his direct words. One thing about Yoongi is that he loves getting under your skin.

You take a second too long to reply, which only feeds into his assumption–and for once, it’s not entirely wrong. Still, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

So you lie, straight through your teeth.

“None.”

“Mhm,” he hums behind you, clearly not believing you for even a second.

The coffee is done, the machine letting out a soft beep. Taking the cup into your hands, you fall back on the one thing that always masks the truth.

“Don’t worry. Maybe in another universe, you and I would have a chance.”

Watching Yoongi’s expression shift into pure, unmistakable disgust makes you laugh hard enough to nearly spill your coffee.

“Yeah, let’s hope that universe never makes it.”

Snorting, you take a short sip of your coffee, hoping it might wake you from your dazed state. The truth is, you didn’t sleep well. You woke up in the middle of the night so many times you lost count. Every time you closed your eyes, it was like you were back in Hawaii – on the plane, or anywhere Jungkook was. He invaded every inch of your dreams.

You once read that dreams are unprocessed events. This feels like proof of that.

You’ve done everything to make yourself presentable; not a single person could guess how your night really was. Yoongi moves to the machine, making himself a coffee.

Opening your mouth to steer the conversation somewhere else, you’re interrupted by someone calling your name. One of your co-workers greets you and quickly slips into a friendly, if slightly nosy, conversation about your vacation. She asks all the usual questions.

You welcome it, though. It seems you need more interactions with other people – anything to keep your mind from drifting back to the one person who keeps invading it.

When you glance behind you, to where Yoongi had been standing, there’s nothing – only the faint smell of his strong americano lingering in the air.

The rest of the week passes in circles. You go to work, come home, and keep yourself busy with small things – organizing cupboards, doing chores, anything to stay occupied.

The group chat mostly consists of Jimin and Taehyung texting each other. Jungkook says he’s had a lot of work since getting back and is still catching up. He replies here and there, usually when they mention him, but otherwise, the chat feels… off.

It’s true – you and Jungkook haven’t spoken directly. And you find yourself wondering if you should just send him a quick text.

That’s what friends do, right?

Even Taehyung calls both of you out for being unavailable, but you fall back on the same excuse Jungkook uses. You’re busy, catching up with everything.

It’s not really an excuse – you are busy. The difference is, you’re making sure you stay that way.

After Taehyung’s comment, you do try to react more to the things they send, hoping he won’t question it further or corner you the moment he gets you alone.

The day of your hangout is here, and you make sure you look as good as you possibly can. You spend a little too long in front of the mirror, adjusting things no one else would notice, just to feel a bit more in control. There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest, a quiet anxiety building as you prepare to face Jungkook again. It sits there, persistent, like something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either.

Once you get there, you feel like a high schooler about to take an oral exam in front of the class. A strange comparison, but you swear – the same tight knots twist in the pit of your stomach. Your hands feel slightly restless, unsure of where to settle, and every passing second stretches just a little too long. You catch yourself overthinking the smallest things–what you’ll say first, how he’ll greet you, whether it’ll feel normal at all.

Much to your disappointment, when you arrive, there’s no sign of Jungkook. At first, you tell yourself it might be for the better if he shows up later. Maybe then you’ll feel a little more in control. But it turns out today isn’t that kind of day.

After twenty minutes of talking about everything and nothing, you drift closer to Jimin. “Where’s Jungkook?”

For a moment, Jimin seems taken aback by your question, but he quickly shakes it off. “He’s not coming,” he says. “I thought you knew.”

“Yeah–yeah. I thought he was coming.” You try to play it off.

But even Jimin seems to notice something’s off. Out of everyone, you’d be the one to know. If the thought lingers in his mind, he doesn’t push it – just gives you a small, easy smile.

“He said he’s got one more big project to finish.”

And maybe that’s true. You know how Jungkook is when it comes to work – how easily he loses himself in it, how little time he leaves for anything else.

But still…

You can’t shake the feeling that you might be part of the reason he didn’t come.

When the waitress comes over to take your order, you sheepishly lean toward Jimin and ask if he’d be able to take you home. You feel a little too relieved when he has no problem with it, already offering to come back with you tomorrow so you can pick up your car.

You order soju, desperate to have fun–to forget the missing presence of your friend.

At some point, the others mention how it’s a shame Jungkook couldn’t make it. You just smile, a little too quickly, a little too tightly, hoping no one lingers on it long enough to connect the dots.

It’s just another reminder of how much everything has changed.

By the time it’s been two weeks since you last saw Jungkook, you start getting the feeling he’s avoiding you. Surely, he can’t be that busy to miss every single hangout. 

On Tuesday, you all gather at Jimin’s place for a quick dinner consisting of junk food and a movie that always takes at least an hour to choose. Everyone in the group prefers different genres, which makes it harder to come to a decision.

On Thursday, you invite them over to your place instead.

Jungkook’s excuse for missing it comes in the form of a short message.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Have an early shoot in the morning. You guys have fun x”

You’re not going to lie – you thought that if you were the one inviting everyone, he’d make sure not to miss it. To say the disappointment settling in your chest was painful would be an understatement.

You try to reason with yourself. He is busy. He wouldn’t lie about that. Even the guys say so. Even Maya knows about it – she mentioned it once while the two of you were on the phone, something about Namjoon needing help picking up a new piece of furniture. Jungkook was usually the first person people called when something heavy needed moving.

Even then, he had to turn him down.

It’s Friday. You should’ve gone straight home, taken the warm bath your body desperately needs to help your muscles relax. But when Jimin’s message pops up in the group chat, asking if any of you are up for fried chicken and beer, you find yourself debating whether you should go or not.

Much to your surprise, Taehyung can’t make it this time either – and, of course, neither can Jungkook.

When Jimin opens the door, blond hair messy and dressed in an oversized shirt, he welcomes you inside. The smell of fried chicken instantly hits you and your mouth waters.

“Finally,” he says dramatically, stepping aside to let you in. “I was starting to think you’d ditch me too.”

You snort quietly, slipping off your shoes as he closes the door behind you. “Tell me something about it.” you mumble under your breath.

You’ve been to Jimin’s apartment more times than you can count. Even if Jungkook’s place is where you usually hang out, you’re no stranger to Jimin’s apartment either.

Jimin’s place doesn’t have that stereotypical bachelor mess you’d expect from a guy living alone. Instead, the place smells faintly of clean laundry and whatever softener he uses, mixed with the lingering scent of fried food. The only exception is the gaming room down the hallway, permanently dim with LED lights and blackout curtains.

The apartment feels comfortable as always, warm lighting filling the space while a game is paused on Jimin’s large television screen.

Jimin walks toward the kitchen island and grabs a can of beer from the fridge before tossing it your way. “Catch.”

You give him a frowned look, thankful your instincts still kick in even at seven in the evening. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“And have Jungkook banging on my door?”

Jimin says it playfully, clearly teasing you. You roll your eyes, cracking the beer open.

“He’d have to be available first,” you mumble under your breath.

Jimin ignores your comment, though a slight grin still pulls at his lips. Cracking open his own beer, he takes a couple long chugs from the can.

The evening settles easily after that. You sit cross-legged on his couch, stealing fries from the takeout bag while Jimin talks about work, complaining about exhausting schedules and people seemingly incapable of doing the simplest tasks properly. 

Eventually, the topic shifts to your own job. 

“I swear he enjoys stressing me out,”

“Who? Yoongi?” he asks, already grinning and expression bright in recognition. “I kinda miss that guy.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “You miss being insulted every ten minutes?”

“There’s something oddly refreshing about him,” Jimin argues with a shrug. “At least he’s honest.”

“He’s insufferable.”

“Which is exactly why it’s a shame you hate him,” Jimin teases. “He’d make a nice addition to the group.”

The thought alone makes you laugh, memories of Jungkook and Yoongi childishly arguing with each other during the camping trip instantly resurfacing. The memories of those moments still feel fresh, almost as if they happened just last week. Thinking about them brings a wave of nostalgia mixed with something heavier you can’t quite name.

There’s never been a trip without some kind of drama, but this time it feels different. It’s only a reminder of how much your deal with Jungkook changed things.

Back then, the biggest issues were Taehyung and Jimin flirting a little too much and ending up with angry women ready to throw their drinks at them. Compared to now, those problems almost seem laughable.

“He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”

Jimin looks taken aback by the silent question. After the laugh dies down, he looks as if he’s understanding what, or rather whom, you’re hinting at. Jimin isn’t stupid. He has to see that Jungkook has missed too many opportunities to hang out.

“Kook?” Jimin laughs, reaching for the cold fries that will probably taste like gum any minute now.

Nodding, you finish the beer. “I mean, he’s clearly not interested in hanging out.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you notice the way Jimin’s eyes drift away. He clears his throat, suddenly far too focused on taking another long chug of his beer.

You’ve known him for years. You know his body language. And this – this is Jimin trying very hard not to accidentally say something he shouldn’t.

“Spill it.”

Jimin tries to look as if he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“Jimin,” you repeat through clenched teeth.

He looks almost apologetic then, scratching the back of his slightly messy blond hair.

“We hung out with Jungkook two days ago.”

You nearly choke on your own spit.

This whole time, you genuinely thought he was avoiding everyone. A part of you held onto the hope that maybe he truly was just busy with work, that he simply didn’t have the time.

“You what?” You try to keep the offense at bay, but after the one beer that’s already enough to affect you, you fail miserably.

“Listen, it wasn’t intentional. You were working, and Taehyung and I were already at his place when Jungkook called him about something and ended up stopping by. I swear, we’d never intentionally not include you.”

Trying to process the revelation, you know there’s nothing to be mad about. Hurt, maybe–but that has nothing to do with Jimin or Taehyung. All this time, you’d been sitting here thinking Jungkook had only been keeping in contact with everyone through messages.

You know it was random. Jungkook happened to come over, and it naturally turned into the three of them hanging out. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t need updates about everyone’s whereabouts every second of the day.

You were never the type to get upset when the guys spent time together without you. It’s normal. You’re all adults with different schedules, jobs, and responsibilities.

But still, something about it stings.

Jungkook had no problem randomly showing up at Taehyung’s place. Somehow, he found the time for that. Yet the last time you saw him was after you landed back from Hawaii, and since then, your only contact has been a handful of short messages that barely count as conversations.

For a brief second, you think about reaching out. Just calling him and getting rid of this awful uncertainty sitting in your chest.

But clearly, he’s not interested.

And no matter how much you try to stay reasonable about it, emotions get the best of you. Because the truth is – whether you want to admit it or not – you’re hurt. And maybe a little angry too.

“I’m not mad, Jimin,” you assure him, noticing the guilty look practically written all over his face. “So, he’s only avoiding me, huh?”

“No–I don’t know, I don’t think he is.”

“Come on, Jimin.” You let out a dry, unbelieving laugh that makes it obvious you don’t buy a single word of it.

“Well–what exactly happened in Hawaii?” 

You look slightly taken aback by the sudden question. It doesn’t sound invasive, though – more curious than anything else. Like Jimin is simply trying to piece the puzzle together on his own. Clearly, even he can sense the shift in your dynamic with Jungkook.

Your mouth opens, then closes again.

“Because before you guys went, everything felt normal.”

You know that. And you’re not ready to spill everything.

It’s not that you desperately want to hide it or keep it some shameful secret, but a part of you believes it’s simply too private. Too personal to be laid out and picked apart by multiple people. It’s not only your story to tell either – Jungkook is part of it too.

Talking about it out loud somehow makes everything feel far too real. Almost invasive.

If Maya hadn’t caught onto it herself, you probably wouldn’t have been nearly as honest with her either.

The person you actually need to talk to is Jungkook.

You genuinely thought the two of you ended things on a good note. You talked about it. Set boundaries. Tried to be mature about the entire situation.

But somehow, it’s only worse now.

And when you really think about it, the only thing truly happening is the lack of contact with Jungkook. That’s what’s making everything feel so unbearably wrong.

“He asked about you. You know?”

Your head snaps toward him instantly, heart briefly picking up at the revelation. For one stupid second, hope flickers inside you at the thought that maybe Jungkook still cares.

But then the irritation comes just as quickly, settling across your face in a frown. Are you supposed to feel touched by that?

“He’s got my number, just FYI.”

Jimin sighs, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know what happened with you guys, though knowing you, I can imagine–”

You shoot him a nasty look.

“–but I know Jungkook never acts without a reason,” he finishes anyway. “I just don’t see some huge problem here. He does care.”

“Well, if he wants to ask about me,” you mutter bitterly, “he could do that by asking me. Not you guys.”

“Yeah, he should. I didn’t know you guys weren’t in touch at all. I guess we both were kind of surprised with Tae when he asked about you, but it wasn’t anything worth to be suspicious about. But now that you’re asking…”

You look away, unable to stop yourself from drifting into your thoughts. Jimin reaches out and gently squeezes your shoulder in comfort.

“He really does have a lot of work,” he says quietly. “His schedule’s completely packed. He hung out with us for less than an hour, if that helps at all.”

It doesn't exactly make you feel better. You would’ve been happier hearing that they actually got proper time together. But hearing Jimin confirm that Jungkook wasn’t lying about work does ease your mind a little.

Not that you truly believed he would purposely lie to you. Still, it felt strange. Jungkook always made time somehow – even if it was just for less than an hour, like he did with them.

“Just talk to him, yeah? He really seemed sorry about ditching us lately.”

You nod quietly, exhaustion slowly settling into your body alongside the alcohol buzzing lightly in your system. Jimin notices it immediately and doesn’t even bother asking whether you’re planning to drive home.

“Take the bed,” he says casually while collecting the empty cans from the coffee table. “You’re the only woman in the group. We have standards.”

You snort tiredly. “Your standards are fried chicken and cheap beer.”

“Exactly,” he replies proudly. “Premium treatment.”

The small exchange earns a genuine laugh out of you, easing some of the heaviness sitting in your chest. Still, later that night, once you’re alone in Jimin’s bedroom after taking a shower, the thoughts return all over again.

His room smells faintly like clean laundry and the cologne he always wears. Dressed in one of Jimin’s oversized shirts and a pair of soft cotton shorts to sleep in, you sit against the headboard for a while, absentmindedly staring at your phone resting beside you on the bed.

Maybe you really do have to talk to Jungkook alone.

Even if he’s genuinely busy. Even if he truly feels bad about missing out lately. Something still feels off. Because before all of this, he would’ve texted you daily without fail – and you would’ve done the same.

It’s not like you can place all the blame on him either. You haven’t exactly been reaching out much yourself.

But back then, Jungkook would practically blow up your phone if you disappeared for too long, always wanting to know if you were okay, if you got home safely, if you ate properly.

And maybe it’s selfish to miss that. Maybe it’s unfair to expect him to still act that way just because he always used to. Why should he be the only one making the effort?

Either way, there’s something hanging in the air.

Which is why you find yourself on the way to Jungkook’s place the next day. You went home only to change clothes and make yourself look presentable, as if your worries haven’t revolved around him this entire time.

You opted for high-waisted black pants and a casual white shirt, a mini bag hanging from one shoulder while the other hand carries a paper bag with flavored milk waiting inside for him. It’s a thoughtful gesture, perhaps even a more thought-out attempt to mend things between you.

Jungkook’s building has always been more secure, but recently they updated the system. Now, you need a code to get inside unless someone lets you in from upstairs. Jungkook mentioned it briefly during one of the dinners in Hawaii, complaining about how annoying it was whenever he forgot the code after late schedules.

Thankfully, before you can even think about calling him, someone exits the building. One of Jungkook’s neighbors – a man in his forties whose name you’ve never learned despite seeing him around countless times – holds the door open for you on his way out. A gym bag hangs from his shoulder, clearly on his way to work out.

The two of you exchange quick greetings before you step inside the familiar building, already knowing the way by heart.

On the way upstairs, standing inside the elevator, nervousness slowly starts creeping into your chest and you don’t even fully understand why.

You just hope he’s still home.

Jungkook sent a picture into the group chat this morning – his computer screen filled with editing software and dozens of photos scattered across it. So you hope he’s still dedicating his time to that, because this entire thing would feel like a complete failure if he wasn’t home.

The image of yourself sitting outside his apartment door like some abandoned puppy immediately makes you cringe. Especially at the thought of him coming home late and finding you there.

Stepping out of the elevator, you’re met with the familiar clean scent lingering through the hallway, one you’ve grown used to after coming here so many times.

Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you embarrassingly find yourself trying to listen for any kind of noise behind it, something that would confirm he’s actually home. But all you’re met with is silence.

Before anyone can catch you awkwardly peeping by his door, you quickly press the bell, hearing its faint sound through the thick, secure walls.

For a while, which is surely just a few seconds but feels like hours, you hear nothing. For a while – surely only a few seconds, though it feels much longer – you hear nothing. Knowing how well Jungkook’s heavy door isolates sound, you bite the inside of your cheek and wait patiently.

Then the door lets out a soft beep before unlocking, and you’re completely unprepared when it swings open and reveals him.

He’s dressed in all black – an oversized t-shirt paired with shorts, unsurprising considering Jungkook always runs warm. His hair is freshly cut too, shorter than you remember.

But none of that is what truly catches your attention.

Your focus settles on his dark eyes that slightly widen the moment they land on you standing in front of his door. His lips part just a little as he grips the handle, simply staring at you for a second too long.

Well, that’s not exactly the reaction you were hoping for.

So you end up being the first one to speak.

“Hi.”

His gaze slowly drifts over your appearance as if he’s still trying to process the fact that you’re actually standing there.

“Hi,” he finally says back.

“Sorry for showing up unannounced. I wasn’t sure if you were still home.”

For a brief moment, he looks confused by how you’d know that, but realization quickly settles across his face. The picture in the group chat. Of course you saw it.

He knew you read the message.

He just clearly wasn’t expecting you to show up at his door.

And for a split second, you feel oddly satisfied by how caught off guard he looks. Because this way, he can’t really avoid you anymore.

Unless he decides to close the door in your face.

“Are you still working? Can I come in?”

He clears his throat before opening the door wider. “Yeah, come in.”

You brush past him, instantly greeted by the familiar comfort of his home mixed with the scent of freshly made coffee. But even stronger than that is his cologne. Despite not smelling it for the past two weeks or so, it immediately brings a strange sense of comfort and familiarity.

Slipping the bag off your shoulder, you place it onto the small seat by the shoe rack. Still holding the paper bag in your hand, you realize you never let go of it.

“Oh, I brought you something.”

Turning around, you find Jungkook quietly watching you, his attention fully on you without saying a word. His eyes drop to the paper bag as you hand it over.

He pulls out the bottle of flavored milk, instantly recognizing his favorite flavor before placing it back inside.

“Thanks,” he says softly. “Will come in handy.”

You bite your lower lip, and Jungkook’s eyes instantly drop to the movement. He stays awfully silent, and you can’t tell whether he’s still shocked by your sudden appearance or simply not too pleased about it.

“I’m sorry if I barged in here unannounced. If it’s not a good time, I could–”

“No, it’s fine. Come in.”

He motions with his head, and you quietly follow him deeper into the apartment.

His place is clean as always, and aside from the two cups of coffee sitting on the coffee table, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Soft music drifts from one of the rooms – the one that used to be your room while you moved in temporarily. But as you step closer, you notice another presence.

It takes you a second to recognize the familiar face you haven’t seen since the camping trip. That trip really seems determined to keep haunting you lately, as if the universe desperately wants you to remember every single part of it.

Ester stands there with her hair dyed a soft reddish color, holding Jungkook’s prized possession – his camera.

“Oh, hi, Y/N! It’s so nice to see you again!” she greets cheerfully, genuinely looking happy to see you.

Jungkook stands close enough beside you for you to feel his presence, but you purposely avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see the complete shock written across your face. Ester is probably the last person you expected to see here. Honestly, the thought of finding anyone in his apartment never even crossed your mind.

Suddenly, showing up here unannounced feels incredibly stupid.

“Hey, Ester. Nice to see you too.” You force a small smile. “Are you guys working on something?”

The moment the question leaves your mouth, you mentally curse at yourself. It sounds oddly pointed, almost as if you’re trying too hard to casually confirm what exactly she’s doing here.

“I reached out to Jungkook. I got this job and thought I could use some help from a real professional here.” “Professional, huh?”

It’s the first time Jungkook grins since opening the door for you. The smile is faint, touched with quiet amusement, and Ester laughs before confidently nodding at her own statement.

You watch the interaction unfold and suddenly feel strangely out of place standing there. Especially when Ester looks effortlessly pretty in her short summer dress, completely comfortable in Jungkook’s apartment while you stand there feeling like an unexpected interruption.

“Well, if I knew you had someone over, I wouldn’t have come,” you say, already stepping slightly back. “I’ll let you guys work.”

Ester immediately shakes her head, dismissing the idea with an easy smile. Glancing down at the watch around her wrist, she looks back at you kindly.

“I was actually about to head home anyway,” she says. “We already went over everything I needed.”

She thanks Jungkook for helping her, and he smiles softly in return.

“Keep in touch,” he tells her while walking her toward the hallway. “You have my number in case you need help with anything, but I’m sure you’ll do great.”

You almost want to let out a bitter laugh at the mention of his number.

Because if you hadn’t shown up here today, he probably wouldn’t have reached out at all. And honestly, who knows how much longer the two of you would’ve kept tiptoeing around each other like this.

Actually, no.

To tiptoe around each other, there would first need to be some contact between you at all.

She bids both of you goodbye, and Jungkook walks her to the door. From where you stand, you only catch the faint sound of their goodbyes, mixed with quiet wishes of good luck and gratitude for his help.

The door clicks shut behind them.

Slowly, you make your way toward the living room, eyes landing on the untouched cup of coffee still sitting on the table. It looks like Ester barely even took a sip from it, and the realization makes you close your eyes briefly in annoyance at yourself.

“She wasn’t supposed to leave this early, was she?”

Jungkook notices the untouched coffee too, faint steam still rising from the cups as he answers.

“No.”

“Oh, fuck. I’m such an idiot.” You groan, throwing your head back in embarrassment.

“You’re not,” he says calmly. “Ester’s just too polite to say no to anything.”

You almost ask whether Ester was really here only for work, but the thought dies quickly in your head. Because it wouldn’t sound like harmless curiosity from a friend teasing him about having a woman over.

It would sound more like an ex still hung up on him and seconds away from causing a jealous scene.

So instead, you simply sigh. “Yeah… she’s a nice girl.”

Jungkook doesn’t comment on that. He stays quiet, only asking if you want something to drink.

Not even a drink feels capable of washing away your embarrassment right now, so you shake your head.

Silence settles between you after that.

And slowly, you start getting the feeling that Jungkook is purposely choosing not to say anything first, almost as if he’s waiting for you to explain why you suddenly showed up here.

Somehow, that irritates you a little. Because he’s not even questioning your presence.

He just watches you quietly, eyes lingering on you as if he’s studying you. Or maybe he simply doesn’t care enough to ask.

You hate that you can’t tell what he’s thinking anymore.

“Heard you and the guys hung out,” is all you say. It’s not meant to sound accusing, and your voice stays soft. “I know it wasn’t exactly planned.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he confirms quietly.

Silence stretches between you again afterward. Your eyes drift around the apartment until they land on the framed family pictures standing on the shelf. In one of them, you’re there too alongside Taehyung and Jimin.

The picture was taken years ago.

You look so young in it. Every time you see that photo, you remember how Taehyung and Jimin used to joke that you were like their little sister. They always took special care of you, all of them did in their own ways. 

“Are you avoiding me, Kook?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can overthink it any further. Straight to the point.

Jungkook stares at you quietly. He doesn’t look surprised by the question. His eyes briefly drift away as he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something, but just like with Jimin – you know him too well.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, realization instantly crashing into you. “You actually are.”

It comes out sounding more accusing than you intended.

But Jungkook doesn’t deny it either. He only sighs softly before closing his eyes for a moment, as if exhausted by this entire situation already.

“Why?”

You wish you didn’t sound this weak, but at least you’re being honest with him.

“I wasn’t lying,” Jungkook says quietly. “I really was busy.”

“You know I’m not stupid,” you tell him. “I know when something’s going on. And I know I wasn’t exactly reaching out either, but I just… I wanna know why.”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose before quietly telling you; “I was giving you some space.”

“Space?” you repeat, disbelief immediately settling into your voice. “That’s what you thought I needed?”

He only stares at you.

“I’ve missed you.”

The confession leaves your mouth before pride can stop it.

Jungkook’s features soften almost instantly, and he lets out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe I was the one who needed space.”

The words hit you so unexpectedly it almost feels like being slapped across the face. You stare at him, unable to believe he actually said that out loud.

“Why?” Your voice cracks around the question.

Jungkook takes a small step closer then, finally holding your gaze properly. The eye contact feels almost too intense after weeks of distance. He gently shakes his head, already regretting the wording.

“That came out wrong,” he says softly. “The trip was overwhelming for both of us, and I thought maybe we just needed some time to relax.”

“Relax?” you nearly whine, frustration and hurt mixing together embarrassingly fast. “You suddenly cut me off, Jungkook. You’ve never done that before.”

The second the words leave your mouth, you realize how childish you probably sound.

But at the same time, something inside your chest painfully cracks at the realization that this is actually happening.

“I really did have a lot of work to catch up on,” he says. “I’ve taken too much onto my shoulders lately.”

“Kook, that’s an excuse and you know it.”

Your voice softens despite the frustration bubbling underneath it.

“No matter how busy you’ve always been, you still texted me at least. And I know I can’t expect you to always be the one reaching out first–that’s on me too, because I should’ve reached out sooner.”

You shake your head lightly, trying to gather your thoughts.

“It’s not like it’s been months or anything. But… I just know–”

Before you can even finish the sentence, your eyes betray you. Tears suddenly well up, and all it takes is one look into Jungkook’s dark eyes quietly watching you for everything to feel far too overwhelming.

Both of you know what this is really about.

It doesn’t matter that it’s only been around two weeks of barely any direct contact. The two of you have never been like this before.

“God,” you mutter under your breath with a shaky sniffle, trying not to cry.

The second Jungkook notices it, he steps closer.

“You said I wouldn’t lose you.”

“You’re not losing me,” he assures softly. His fingers carefully tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and the simple touch almost hurts with how much you missed it.

“Then why does it feel like I am?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you. Instantly, you bury your face into his t-shirt, relaxing into his warmth like your body remembers him before your mind can even process it.

You really don’t want to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs honestly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Resting his cheek against your hair, he gently sways the two of you side to side in a comforting motion. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought I was doing us a favor.”

“Well, you weren’t,” you mumble against his chest, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

“Yeah,” he sighs softly. “That’s on me.”

“Kook.”

“Hm?”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

You pull away just enough to look at him properly. He looks unfairly perfect. Smooth skin freshly shaved, dark eyes softened by concern, and even the tiny scar beneath his left cheek somehow brings you comfort through its familiarity.

You’ve seen that scar from much closer distances than any best friend ever should have.

“I promise.”

And for now, it feels like a soft balm over your scattered chest.

The next time you see each other is at one of the bars you’ve visited a couple of times with your friends. It’s the usual spot the guys choose alongside Maya. Tonight, though, it’s different. It’s the night of both Namjoon’s and Maya’s bachelor and bachelorette parties.

It’s refreshing that they decided to meet with everyone first before it’s time for the ladies and gentlemen to go their separate ways. One of Namjoon’s only requests was no strippers or anything too crazy like a typical bachelor party. The guys agreed, but since Taehyung is attending, you have a feeling something crazy is bound to happen anyway. He’d never let a night like this stay completely tame.

When the no-strippers rule first came up, Taehyung looked genuinely disappointed. His argument was simple: it’s not every day one of your friends gets married. Even so, no one is willing to tell you what they actually have planned for Namjoon.

Since Namjoon isn’t interested in any of the stereotypical bachelor party traditions, Maya decided, out of respect for not only her soon–to–be husband but also their marriage, that she doesn’t want any strippers either.

As the wedding draws closer, it’s sweet to see the two of them so in love, practically glued to each other even now as everyone gathers in the large reserved booth. Maya has invited some of her cousins and friends from back home, making the group even bigger than usual.

“Oh, come on. Not even a hint?” you whine, tonight’s plans becoming the main topic of conversation around the table.

Jungkook sits across the table, a small amused smile resting on his lips as he watches your latest attempt to squeeze any information out of them. Not even he gives away the secret.

It’s not like you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. They’re the ones talking about it, so why won’t they just say what they have planned? You’d happily tell them what you had planned, but Maya insisted on keeping it a secret just for the fun of it.

Poor Namjoon remains completely clueless. Since the guys planned everything, he’s probably the most innocent person sitting at the table.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Taehyung muses, not bothering to hide the smirk behind his whiskey glass before taking a slow sip.

All of the guys are dressed to the nines, turning heads the moment they walked into the bar. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Maya’s cousins either, whose attention perks up every time Jimin, Taehyung, or Jungkook say anything. You’d think you would’ve gotten used to it by now, and most of the time you simply ignore it, but it’s always the same whenever the group goes out.

To their credit, Maya’s cousins respectfully keep their attention away from Seokjin. The wedding band resting on his ring finger is more than enough to make it clear he’s off-limits.

“You men are evil,” Maya comments with a huff, nuzzling into Namjoon’s chest. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, hiding his smile in her hair.

Taehyung checks the watch around his wrist, the time for everyone to go their separate ways quickly approaching. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your soon–to–be husband back in one piece.”

“Those words sound awfully strange coming out of your mouth,” you tease. He scoffs at you, though the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gives him away.

“You’re just jealous. I know you’d kill to be on our team tonight.”

Truthfully, you don’t mind it at all. Maya’s cousins seem genuinely nice, even if they mostly keep to themselves, chatting among each other as family tends to do. They have, however, spent a good portion of the evening shamelessly admiring your friends as if they’d been presented on silver platters.

You can’t really blame them. Seeing women sneak glances at your friends has become a normal part of going out together.

“Keep talking and the only thing I’m gonna kill is you.” You purse your lips at Taehyung, whose eyes instantly light up with excitement. He lives for this kind of back-and-forth, and you know he’s enjoying this side of you just as much as you enjoy giving it to him.

From the corner of your eye, you notice Aisha and Ada – Maya’s cousins – exchange a quick glance, clearly not expecting this kind of dynamic between the two of you.

Oh, they have no idea.

“Come get me.”

Namjoon lets out a laugh at the two of you, quickly followed by everyone else around the table. You huff dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back in your seat with exaggerated annoyance.

“We’re going to have the time of our lives,” Maya says with a smug smile, holding up a finger decorated with the white bridal sash draped across her shoulder that proudly reads Bride. You all surprised her with it the moment she and Namjoon walked into the bar hand in hand, looking as in love as ever. “You boys are going to wish you were there with us.”

Suddenly, Maya reaches for a paper bag you somehow hadn't noticed before. You did see Aisha carrying it earlier, but you never really gave it a second thought. Now, watching Maya pull it onto the table with a mischievous smile, you have a feeling you probably should have.

“Since all of my girls here are single, I don’t want to ruin your fun just because I’m about to get married,” Maya says with a grin. “I’m going to be a happily married woman soon, but I hope we’ll still have nights like this–just us girls, celebrating for no reason at all.”

You already don’t like where this is going. Especially after hearing the word single.

Maya reaches into the paper bag and pulls out a silver tiara. Across the front, in glittering letters, is one simple word: Single.

You almost let out a whine.

Then you watch in disbelief as she pulls out another. And another. One for each of you.

Her cousins happily accept theirs, immediately placing them on their heads before flashing them toward the guys with playful smiles, almost as if expecting them to take the hint. They giggle amongst themselves, whispering something to each other.

Meanwhile, you simply stare at Maya's outstretched hand holding your tiara, your smile becoming increasingly crooked.

She notices the look of pure disgust on your face, nudging the tiara closer.

You sigh dramatically before reluctantly taking it from her, earning a triumphant smile as she settles back into Namjoon's embrace. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist.

Taehyung lets out a quiet cackle the second he sees the tiara in your hands. You eye the thing as if it might bite you.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks more skeptical. You catch him subtly glancing toward Jungkook before quickly looking away again.

You don't think much of it. The guys have still been walking on eggshells around the two of you ever since Hawaii.

The truth is, you simply hate being labeled single like it's an open invitation for every man in the room to come try his luck. Going out already means dealing with enough unwanted attention, and you don't mean that in an arrogant way. Drunk men can be relentless.

One of the unexpected perks of always hanging out with the guys is that most people assume you're dating one of them–or they're simply too intimidated to approach. The guys have always been protective of you. They know exactly how some men can be.

And with them around, you've never once questioned whether you were safe.

“Come on, put it on.” Maya nudges you, something mischievous dancing behind her eyes.

Letting out a long, defeated sigh, you place the tiara on top of your head.

The moment you do, you catch Jungkook's gaze across the table. He isn't looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the silver tiara resting on your head.

He knows exactly what you're thinking. He knows you. He knows you've never been a fan of strangers approaching you with only one intention in mind – to get their hands on you.

“Are you playing matchmaker tonight, Maya?” Taehyung muses, clearly finding the whole thing amusing. Out of everyone at the table, he’s probably the last person to look for anything long-term, which is exactly why he finds it so funny.

“Maybe,” Maya says with a mischievous smile. “You never know. The love of your life could be sitting in a bar somewhere right now. Who knows? Maybe the next wedding we’ll be planning is one of yours.”

Taehyung lets out an exaggerated sound of disgust. “Don't put that curse on me.” He clutches his chest dramatically.

You, Jungkook, and Jimin burst into laughter. Mostly because, out of everyone at the table, Taehyung is probably the only person you can genuinely picture still breaking hearts well into his eighties.

Soon enough, it's time to say your goodbyes. Everyone finishes their drinks, and the last sip leaves a familiar burn at the back of your throat as the alcohol settles warmly in your stomach.

You're not planning on getting wasted, though. If anything, you have a feeling you'll end up being the responsible one of the group. Maya has made it very clear she intends to make the most of this night as an unmarried woman, and judging by the excited looks on her cousins' faces, they don't seem interested in holding themselves back either.

You don't want them to.

That's the whole point of tonight–to party, drink. You'll definitely join in, just... carefully.

You know yourself a little too well. Sometimes, once you start drinking, it's surprisingly hard to stop. And that usually ends with you throwing up everything you've consumed in the past twenty-four hours – sometimes it even feels like you're bringing back Christmas dinner for good measure.

As Maya and Namjoon share a long goodbye kiss, you swear they're seconds away from forgetting the rest of you are even there. For the first time, you catch a glimpse of something almost hungry in the way Namjoon looks at her. He's always adored Maya, but he's usually much more restrained about showing it in public.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you quickly look away, feeling oddly like you're intruding on a private moment.

When your gaze lands elsewhere, you find Jungkook already watching you. A knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, clearly amused by the horrified expression on your face.

Especially considering you and Jungkook used to be far worse whenever you were alone and out of your friends' sight. And the two of you weren't even the ones getting married.

So why do your cheeks suddenly warm beneath Jungkook's gaze?

Jungkook traded his usual oversized clothes for tailored black trousers and a black satin shirt, the top buttons left carelessly undone. The glossy fabric catches the dim lights of the bar, making him look effortlessly expensive.

Before you can say anything, he steps closer. His eyes immediately find the silver tiara perched on your head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Without a word, he reaches up and straightens it where it sits slightly crooked, his fingertips careful not to disturb your hair.

As his hand falls away, his eyes naturally drift down to your lips, painted with a soft brown lipstick that somehow complements the silky blush pink dress hugging your figure. The satin fabric catches the light with every small movement, the delicate straps leaving your shoulders bare while the fitted silhouette flows effortlessly down your body.

“Be safe, okay?” he hums.

“You know I’m used to having my personal security team around,” you joke.

Jungkook huffs out a quiet laugh. “Well, I’m one call away.”

“I’m not gonna call you, Kook. You guys have a good time, okay?” you smile, ready to walk away for your own sake.

Before you can, Jungkook instinctively reaches for your hand. His fingers slip between yours for just a second, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“If anything happens,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument, “you call me. You hear me?”

He's serious, searching your eyes for genuine agreement before the two of you go your separate ways.

You give him a small nod.

It isn't enough.

His brows knit together ever so slightly, waiting.

“I will,” you assure him with a soft sigh. “Now go have fun. You're off-duty tonight.”

You try to lighten the mood with the joke, but it doesn't quite land. Jungkook still doesn't look entirely convinced. It's not that he thinks you need a babysitter. He simply can't seem to shake the instinct to look out for you.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Taehyung calls out, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. “Not to interrupt whatever friendly thing you've got going on here, but even Maya and Joon managed to pull themselves away from each other. We're heading out.” He jerks his head toward the exit. “Go find yourself your future husband.”

“Tae, I swear–” you warn, fixing him with a glare.

Taehyung cackles, immediately throwing both hands up in surrender. He knows exactly how to get under your skin, and he never misses the opportunity.

Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh before Taehyung and Jimin begin pulling him away toward the exit. Still walking backward, he points at you one last time.

“Remember,” he calls, “one call away?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, security–” Looking past him, you raise your voice toward Jimin and Taehyung. “Would you take this man outside? He's getting obsessive.”

The three of them burst into laughter. Jungkook only shakes his head, allowing himself to be dragged farther away.

Just before he disappears through the door, you quietly mouth, “One call away.”

He can't hear you.

But he reads it on your lips.

The slight furrow between his brows finally eases, and a satisfied smile appears on his face. He gives you a small salute before disappearing from view.

You can't help but laugh to yourself until the guys are completely out of sight.

“Not a word.”

Turning around, you find Maya standing there with her arms crossed and a knowing smile stretched across her face. You immediately point a warning finger at her, trying to hide the grin threatening to take over your own lips.

Maya lifts both hands in surrender.

“Fine,” she says innocently. “Let's get this night started, girls.”

Excited squeals erupt around you as everyone grabs their bags, following Maya toward the exit.

Maya stays true to her words and doesn't spoil anything about where you're headed. As eager as you are, you know the more you ask, the more she'd enjoy watching you squirm in anticipation. From the looks of it, the girls seem to be just the same. Maya actually has a lot in common with the boys, almost making it feel as if she's filling their place in their absence.

The difference now is that you're actually the one squirming the least for answers, watching the smug smile on Maya's face as she sits comfortably in the rented limousine she'd somehow managed to book. She's always been a party girl, and you have a feeling tonight is going to be anything but a quiet tea party. The girls keep throwing guesses her way, but Maya remains resistant to all their whining, laughing the entire time as she clearly enjoys the push and pull.

As you watch the streets drift by through the tinted window, you catch your reflection and the soft brown lipstick painted across your lips. Jungkook invades your mind, and the memory of his dark eyes dropping to them brings you back to the moment that happened not that long ago. His insistence on making sure you'd be safe and call him if anything happened makes your heart warm, just like it always has whenever he shows you that kind of attention and care. But tonight, it also skips with excitement. Even though you're excited for what's about to come and ready to enjoy the night, your secret wish is that he were here.

"...Any guesses?"

The sound of your name pulls your attention away from the busy streets outside. Looking up, you find everyone staring at you, Maya tilting her head as if wondering what has you so quiet.

Maya's a friend, and you've been very honest with her. You've probably told her more than you ever did the boys, which makes sense because she's not as involved in the little inner circle the four of you have. Plus, her perspective as another woman has become some sort of peace of mind. Even though she can sometimes be a little too honest – perhaps even invasive when it comes to voicing her blunt opinions, which you've grown used to dodging or arguing against – she's kind, bold, and wild. Hence the reason she doesn't understand your fear of screwing up the biggest and most important friendship you have.

You're not going to lie, sometimes you listen to her like she's the tiny devil sitting on your shoulder, encouraging you to stop overthinking and simply enjoy the moment. Maybe her influence played a small part in you getting carried away.

"Nah, you wouldn't tell us either way," you laugh, making Maya's smile widen as she shrugs. "We'll find out soon enough."

"Now that's the vibe!" Maya laughs. "Don't get me wrong, watching you all beg for answers has been pretty entertaining."

"So, Maya..." Ada begins, making the rest of the girls sit up a little straighter in their seats. The soft pink ambient lights glow around the limousine while the panoramic roof reveals a sky already sprinkled with stars. "Who's the hot guy?"

“More like... which one?” Zara giggles. Her deep brown skin glows beneath the pink ambient lights, and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes makes it obvious she's just as invested in interrogating Maya as everyone else. “You're gonna have to be more specific.”

They're all eager, almost as if they made a silent deal to interrogate Maya the moment the right opportunity came. They all smile, some gently nudging each other while wiggling their eyebrows. You can't help but feel a little out of place, watching the girls naturally gang up on Maya as if they'd planned this interrogation long before getting into the limousine.

“Jungkook was his name, wasn't it?” Ada says, tapping a finger against her chin as her cousin, Aisha, gently nudges her foot with the tip of her heel.

“Don't act like you don't remember his name.”

A round of laughter erupts throughout the limousine as Ada shamelessly shrugs, almost as if to say “worth a shot”. A quiet laugh escapes you too, though the mention of Jungkook's name makes your crossed leg begin to bounce.

The limousine stops at a red light, almost as if giving Maya the perfect moment to answer while everyone eagerly waits for whatever reaction she'll give.

“And what about the Taehyung guy?” Imani asks, absentmindedly twirling one of her neat braids over her shoulder before deciding to give it a shot.

Maya laughs, her eyes briefly finding yours, just as amused by the effect your friends have on everyone. Even Jimin's name gets thrown into the mix, and you're a little taken aback by how quickly they've remembered all of their names. You still struggle to remember theirs. Then again, you're not interested in them that way, so maybe it makes sense.

“Shh–” Ada hushes the others, her eyes sparkling as she wiggles her brows. “Is he single?”

“Are all of them?” Zara practically pleads, rubbing her palms together, making you mentally snort. They have a good sense of humor, but beneath all the jokes, it's obvious they genuinely want to know.

“There's no way they all are.” Naomi scoffs, clearly refusing to believe it.

“Okay, let's do this one by one. Let's start with Jungkook.” Ada raises a hand, her long, perfectly curled lashes fluttering as she bats them at Maya.

Maya leans back with a sigh, though the smile never leaves her lips. “I think that's a question for Y/N.”

The moment the words leave Maya's mouth, silence settles over the limousine. Only her playlist quietly fills the background as the car begins moving again. Every pair of eyes lands on you, making you uncross your legs as you sit up straighter. You shoot her a quick look, silently wondering why the hell she'd put you on the spot.

You can practically see their minds racing as they jump to the conclusion that you and Jungkook are something more. Realization slowly spreads across their faces before they're suddenly looking anywhere but at you, almost embarrassed that they've spent the past few minutes openly thirsting over him without even considering the possibility that the two of you might be together.

It's ridiculous. That's what it is. The thought alone.

You can almost see them replaying every interaction from the bar, searching for anything that might've hinted at something between you and Jungkook. Maybe a stolen kiss while they weren't paying attention.

Little do they know, a quick kiss would've been the least of what had happened between you two.

Snorting softly, unable to hide the fact that you see right through them, you shrug.

“He's single.” The words leave your mouth, simple and truthful all at once.

“Y/N's his best friend, so she'd know. Actually, she's good friends with all of them.”

They stare at you as if you've suddenly grown a second head. Maya's words clearly don't register with them at first. They simply can't wrap their heads around how you're friends with them. Just... friends.

They try to hide it, but you catch the subtle sigh of relief that passes between them before a few giggles follow. At least now they know they haven't been openly thirsting over your boyfriend.

“Jimin's taken,” you explain. “And Taehyung... well, unless you're looking to get your heart broken, I wouldn't bother. Relationships aren't really his thing. He's more of a hook-up and call it a day kind of guy.”

“We're here!” Maya claps enthusiastically as the driver pulls into the parking lot. Loud bass echoes through the night, colorful lights illuminating the amusement park ahead.

“An amusement park?” you ask, your voice instantly brightening. “You should've told us before we had drinks.”

“It's just the start, baby.” Maya smirks, ushering all of you out as soon as the limousine comes to a stop near the entrance. The vehicle is too long to pull in any farther. The driver lets you know he'll stay nearby until you're ready to leave.

“We're not staying here?” you ask, assuming she'd just call the driver once it was time to head to the next stop.

“I told you, it's just the start,” Maya reminds you with an amused smile. “This is only a stop. We'll go on a few rides, then we're changing locations.”

“Now I understand why you didn't let us plan the party.” You shake your head with a smile as Maya hooks her arm through yours, happily leading everyone toward the amusement park. You do make one thing clear – you refuse to go on anything that turns you upside down and will happily guard everyone's bags instead.

You spend the next hour hopping from one ride to another, the employees kind enough to let you skip the line for almost every attraction. Even the people waiting don't seem to mind once they notice Maya's oversized BRIDE sash and all of your SINGLE tiaras.

You feel like a clown wearing yours at times. You almost forget it's sitting on your head until you catch a group of young men smirking and bowing dramatically in your direction from across the walkway. You roll your eyes while the girls burst into laughter, clearly loving every second of it.

Now you're left carrying everyone's bags, your hands growing heavier by the minute as you wonder if the girls packed actual bricks. While they're riding something far too extreme for your liking, you fish your phone out to kill some time. Ada volunteered to grab the two of you something to drink and is currently waiting at a nearby stand, chatting with one of the guys in line behind her.

As your screen lights up, the name Kook appears.

Embarrassingly, you unlock it a little too quickly.

Kook: Safe?

Instead of replying right away, you record a short video of the girls sitting at the top of the ride, waiting to be dropped. A second later, they plunge downward, their screams audible even over the pounding music.

You send it.

“video.mp4 I am.”

Locking your phone, you keep it in your hand while watching people laugh, scream, and stumble away from the ride with wobbly legs.

Barely a minute later, it vibrates again.

Kook: good choice on your part

Your fingers move before you can think.

“please, you would've been up there with them”

Kook: of course i would 😜

“what are you guys up to?”

Kook: nothing good tbh, went to an escape room Kook: tae kept cheating, joon almost solved all the clues

“sounds like them”

Kook: who now

“actually both of them lol”

Kook: imagine.jpg

Opening it, you immediately spot Taehyung in the background, pouting dramatically with what looks like clue papers stuck to his forehead. Namjoon scratches his head in concentration while Jimin sits on a nearby chair looking completely baffled.

Then your eyes drift back to Jungkook.

He's grinning at the camera, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he throws up a shaka with one hand.

You can't help but smile.

“suddenly i'm happy with our party”

Kook: rude Kook: how was the ride? joon mentioned he rented a limousine for y'all

“unpleasantly interrogating”

For a moment, you wonder whether you should tell him the truth. You probably will eventually anyway. Somehow, though, you want to keep the conversation going a little longer.

Kook: how so

“the girls had their eyes set on all of you”

Kook: wow really

“don't act surprised jeon”

Kook: 😜

“Come on, here.” A voice nearby catches your attention, making you glance toward the ride. You see the rest of the girls making their way down the steps. Maya has an arm wrapped around Zara's frame, who looks like she's about to be sick.

Locking your phone and slipping it back into your purse, you hurry over to them as Zara breathes heavily. You open your mouth to ask if she's okay, but before a single word comes out, Zara suddenly turns away and throws up onto the grass.

You grimace as the faint smell reaches your nose.

Maya doesn't look much better as she gently pats Zara's back, clearly regretting being the one who insisted on this particular ride. Thankfully, Zara only throws up the drinks she'd had earlier.

The other girls immediately gather around her, asking if she's okay. Just then, Ada returns with the drinks, stopping in her tracks at the sight in front of her. After a brief hesitation, she quietly hands you yours.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not entirely sure you're up for lemonade anymore. Still, you take a few careful sips, hoping the citrus scent will overpower the smell lingering in the air.

“Are you okay?” Maya asks gently, pulling a packet of tissues from her purse and handing it to Zara.

“Hell yeah.” Zara grins after wiping her mouth. “What's our next stop?”

Without waiting for an answer, she steals the lemonade straight from Ada's hands to rinse her mouth.

You stifle a laugh as Ada's face immediately falls into a pout. Offering her your untouched lemonade instead, you watch her happily accept it.

“That's what I'm talking about!” Maya cheers, throwing one hand into the air before pulling out her phone to call the driver and let him know you're ready to head to the next stop.

As you're all seated again, you somehow find yourself in the middle of a conversation about relationships. Ada talks about the toxic relationship she got out of and how she's been single for about a year now. She sounds almost unhappy about it, and as you quietly listen to the conversation, they all seem dissatisfied with being single.

You have no idea where the obsession with women having to be in a relationship comes from. It's as if their whole world revolves around whether they're single or not. You know there's a lot of influence from society and probably social media too.

Zara gulps down an entire bottle of water before asking the driver for a piece of gum. She confides in all of you that she was cheated on, something that really messed her up. It happened recently and, because of it, she doesn't want a relationship right now, though she's not completely opposed to one if it happens naturally.

The rest of the girls are single too, once again confessing how happy they are for Maya and her upcoming marriage, hoping they'll reach that stage of their lives someday.

It's somehow what all of you dream of – to find that one person you get to spend the rest of your life with.

Even you.

And that's saying something, considering Taehyung likes to call you the number one hater of men.

“What about you, Y/N? Are you single?” Imani asks, probably noticing you haven't really participated in the conversation. Then again, neither has Maya, but everyone already knows where she stands.

“Mmm... yeah.”

Maya sips her champagne, raising a brow when you shoot her a glare before shaking it off and offering the girls a smile.

“I was in a relationship,” you shrug, “it wasn't meant to be.”

“What's up with your friend group? Everyone's single.” Aisha laughs, not mockingly, but almost in disbelief. “Y'all are hot, and from what I can tell, you seem like an amazing woman.”

Not entirely sure what earned you such a big compliment, you smile at Aisha in gratitude, letting out a quiet laugh as the others nod in agreement.

“Aish, it's not like there's no interest in Y/N,” Maya snorts, carefully setting her champagne glass down just as the limousine rolls over a speed bump. “She just has a very particular taste in men.”

She wiggles her brows at you.

You snort at that, finding it a little amusing. Maybe Maya's had one glass of champagne too many because the girls suddenly look even more curious.

“Okay, now I'm even more curious.” Imani props her elbow on her knee and rests her chin in her palm, looking completely invested in finding out your type.

“Tall, tattooed, hot, willing to do anything for her, fucking amazing in bed–”

“Maya, let her talk!” Aisha laughs.

Shooting Maya another glare, knowing exactly who she just described, you simply shrug before offering the girls a sweet smile.

“Maya pretty much summed it up.”

“I mean... who doesn't love tall, tattooed, hot men? I sure as fuck do,” Ada comments, earning a chorus of nods and agreement from the others.

The conversation quickly shifts as everyone starts sharing their ideal type of man. Unlocking your phone, you check the time, wondering how much longer the drive will be.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Maya watching you, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

You simply shake your head and laugh to yourself before looking away.

You should've seen it coming.

“Hope you didn't think we wouldn't properly party,” Maya says, leaning over your shoulder from behind as you stare at the club in front of you. The party already seems to be in full swing, all of you arriving at the perfect time.

The girls squeal excitedly, ready to add a little more alcohol to their systems as you all head inside. The club isn't nearly as packed as you expected. Maya tells you they limit the number of people they let in, which is why it never feels overly crowded.

Even so, as you make your way down the stairs, you still have to squeeze through plenty of bodies to reach the main bar. People stare and whistle at your group – some cheering for the bride to be, others eyeing her single friends, yourself included.

You scoff when you catch one guy openly checking out Aisha's ass. Turning around to shoot him a nasty look, you realize his eyes immediately drift to yours just as shamelessly.

If this is what the rest of the night is going to look like, you're ripping this tiara off right in front of them.

And maybe you need that alcohol too.

Fortunately, once you've finished your drinks in record time, you make your way to the dance floor. People naturally form a circle around Maya, encouraging her to dance in the middle while they cheer her on. You join in, genuinely happy for her and soaking in the moment.

The night is amazing. Your feet already hurt, but you can't stop dancing.

At some point, Maya tugs you into the circle, doing the same with her friends as you dance away the rest of the song. By the time the next one starts playing, you're all laughing, slightly out of breath. As the circle slowly breaks apart, you're about to look for somewhere to sit down.

The moment you look up, it takes you a second to spot Namjoon. Maya lets out a loud squeal of surprise before throwing herself into her soon–to–be husband's arms.

“What are you doing here?” you hear her ask, though Namjoon's answer is muffled as your eyes drift toward the familiar group standing behind him.

They stop on one particular pair.

Amusement flickers across Jungkook's face as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You laugh, making your way toward him while, somewhere behind you, the girls erupt into another round of giggles and excited squeals at the guys' sudden appearance. Their chatter instantly picks back up.

Meanwhile, you're still trying to catch your breath, the back of your neck sticky with sweat. Jungkook, on the other hand, looks neat–not a single hair out of place. Of course he does. He's not the one who's been dancing the night away. While one of you managed to throw up and the rest of you danced yourselves half to death, they spent the evening playing an escape room. You can only hope you don't smell like sweat.

“You've got to be kidding me,” you say in utter disbelief as Jungkook's smile slowly spreads.

“See? The tiara's still holding up,” he says with amusement, lightly flicking the tiara perched on your head.

“Don't tempt me.”

He laughs at that.

“How long have you guys been here?” you ask, catching the knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“You mean, did we see you girls dancing?” he teases. “Yeah... long enough to catch most of it.”

“Oh, don't act so smug.” You nudge him lightly in the chest, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your pulse.

“Any nice suitors?”

“If you don't count one guy staring at my ass the second we walked in here, then no.”

The sarcasm dripping from your voice makes Jungkook laugh.

You shoot him a glare, silently asking what exactly he finds so funny.

“Well, you do have a nice ass.”

Smiling up at him as if he'd just said the most romantic thing in the world, you muse, “You think so?”

He snorts in amusement, finally noticing the obvious glow in your eyes and the slight stumble in your stance that's not entirely caused by the heels you're wearing.

He knows that much.

“How much have you had to drink?”

You shrug, putting a little distance between the two of you.

“Apparently not enough.”

You've only had three drinks, but the third one was strong. Thanks to none other than Maya, who'd leaned across the bar to whisper something into the bartender's ear.

“You guys wanna grab a drink?”

Another presence appears beside you.

Not one, but two.

Aisha and Ada stop beside you, their eyes beaming at Jungkook as they practically look right through you.

“Oh, no.” Jungkook smiles politely. “I wouldn't want to intrude on your girls' night. We'll probably head to another club to celebrate.”

You find yourself a little annoyed by that. Just like the girls, who sigh in disappointment, clearly not ready to lose the chance to spend more time with him.

“Well...” You glance over your shoulder toward the dance floor. “Maya's already dancing with Namjoon. You might as well stay for a while.”

It comes out more like a suggestion than an invitation. One Jungkook would be rude to decline. Then again, knowing him, he'd somehow find the most respectful way to do it anyway. They'd be head over heels for him in no time.

Jungkook looks around, searching for the rest of the guys. He finds them not far away, already chatting with the rest of the girls from your group.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think I could stay for a while.”

They don't even try to hide their excitement as they quickly usher him toward the bar.

Looking behind you, you find the couple dancing slowly despite the fast, rhythmic music, simply holding onto each other.

You smile.

There's nothing else to do but follow everyone toward the bar and finally have that drink you so desperately claimed you needed.

For the next thirty minutes, you find yourself listening to the girls chatting with the boys. And no matter how hard Jungkook tries to pull you into the conversation, all that leaves your mouth are hums and short answers.

One minute you're approached by a guy who, at first glance, looks like he has his life together. That illusion disappears the second the smell of weed hits your nose and his drunken gaze spends more time staring at your cleavage than your eyes – which isn't even that impressive to begin with. Your dress is short, sure, but still perfectly decent.

As soon as he leaves, yet another guy you've turned down after asking you to dance, you rip the tiara off your head in annoyance.

Maya's too busy with Namjoon anyway, practically glued to him.

“Wow, what a coincidence, right?” she says after coming over for another glass of water. “Almost like it was meant to be.”

“None of them up to your unbelievable standards?” Jungkook leans toward you the one second the girls' attention isn't completely on him.

“If you think my standards are some junkie who can barely look me in the eyes instead of my tits, then you really think low of me.”

Jungkook snorts.

“Wow. Someone's snappy.”

“I'm not snappy!” you exclaim, leaning back in your seat as you stomp your foot beneath the table, making him raise a brow.

“What about your standards, hm? Do you see any girl you like?”

He simply stares at you with an amused grin, pursing his lips to one side.

“You mean any of Maya's friends?”

You shrug, mimicking the face he just made.

“For example.”

“Like them trying to get my attention?”

You chuckle.

“Of course you noticed.”

He smiles.

“Is that why you've been so snappy?”

You clench your jaw, shooting him a dirty look.

“I'm not snappy!” you hiss, nudging his leg beneath the table. Him sitting next to you is dangerous. So is the fact you have no idea which drink you're about to reach for next.

“Go have fun, Jungkook.”

“I am having fun.” He shrugs.

“Take one of them dancing. Trust me, they'd want nothing more than that. They couldn't stop gushing about you on the way to the amusement park and all the way here.”

“And what about you?” he asks, a teasing glint in his dark eyes as the arm resting along the back of the booth finds your hair. He absentmindedly twirls one of the strands around his finger.

Just like he still has you wrapped around his.

“Were you gushing about me?”

“Oh, please.” You scoff, placing your palm against his chest to nudge him once again. “Should I?”

He smiles.

“You could.”

“Go have fun, Jeon. I'm fine. I could just use some food.” You rub your stomach, feeling it filled with alcohol instead of anything solid. They do have crackers, chips – just something to snack on. But what you really crave is something greasy. Something filling. Something that could soak up at least a little of the alcohol.

“There's a kebab place around the corner,” he says. “Saw it on our way here.”

For a brief second, you eye him from the corner of your eye, suddenly interested in this kebab place.

Instead of giving in to the suggestion, you sigh.

“Go dance, Kook.”

“Well, I don't want to.” He leans back in the booth, looking annoyingly comfortable as you narrow your eyes at him.

He stares right back.

“I thought we made it pretty clear that you pushing me into things doesn't usually end well.”

Shit.

Well, you deserved that.

It's almost like Hawaii all over again. You don't take his words personally because they aren't meant to hurt, nor are they said that way. It's a gentle reminder delivered in the gentlest tone possible, even though there's a little sass behind it, just like Jungkook always manages.

“For your information,” you cross your arms, “it was a suggestion. Not a push.”

“Mhm, sure.” He hums, hiding his smile behind the rim of his beer.

A burst of laughter erupts somewhere at the table, both of you too caught up in your conversation to know what caused it.

“Wanna dance?”

She takes her chance, and thank God he doesn't think you had anything to do with this.

The two of you look at her, even though the question was clearly directed at Jungkook.

He glances back at you, and now you're the one hiding a smirk, shrugging.

You know he's too polite to decline.

“You're a great dancer, Kook. Show Aisha your moves,” you tease, catching the way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip before holding your gaze for a few seconds.

He chuckles, shaking his head before turning to the hopeful Aisha.

Bless her confidence, though.

“Sure,” he says.

You stand, giving them enough room to do the same. As Jungkook gets to his feet, he brushes past you, a little closer than necessary, and you catch the familiar scent of his cologne.

He waits for Aisha to slide out of the booth before the two of them disappear onto the dance floor.

Thank God you don't have to watch that.

Looking back toward the table, you find Taehyung already watching you, his lips pursed as he slowly gives you a thumbs-down.

Rolling your eyes, you silently tell him to fuck off.

“Y/N, my friend! Let's dance!” Taehyung calls out far louder than necessary, making sure everyone at the table hears him.

You catch Maya's friends watching in disappointment, and, strangely enough, you do feel a little bad for them.

“I don't want to dance.”

“Yes, you do,” he says, already on his feet as he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the booth.

You start whining all the way to the dance floor.

One of Pitbull's songs starts blasting through the speakers, one you've danced and screamed the lyrics to together more times than you can count.

Before long, you're laughing, slowly getting into it despite complaining that your feet hurt.

“I'm hungry!” you whine, still wrapping your arms around Taehyung's neck as his hands settle on your hips.

He rolls his hips perfectly, the dance close but still respectful.

You're not sure Maya's friends see it that way, judging by the looks they exchange.

But who cares?

People already think you fucked Jungkook – which isn't exactly false. Only the tense is different.

What's one more misunderstanding?

You and Taehyung dance through the rest of the song, laughing and singing until it fades into the next track.

Just as the two of you decide you need a break, Jungkook walks past with Aisha close behind him, looking even more smitten than she did back at the table.

“Having fun?” he asks, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

“She's hungry,” Taehyung chimes in, brushing past your shoulder and leaving you alone with Jungkook.

Aisha pauses for a second, but Taehyung says something to her that makes her smile before she follows him back toward the table.

“Come on,” Jungkook says. “Let's go eat.”

You let out a small laugh.

“What?”

“You're hungry.”

“I know. I can deal with it. Go have fun.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook frowns.

“Jungkook,” you reply in the exact same tone.

“I can take care of myself,” you remind him, chiming in.

He glances to either side before lifting both hands in a small shrug. 

“I never said you couldn't,” he points out. “Now don't be difficult. Let's go.” 

With that, he turns on his heel, leaving you standing there in disbelief for a few seconds before you hurry after him, just in time to hear him asking if anyone else wants food or feels like joining you.

The girls have already disappeared back onto the dance floor. Only Zara and Ada stay behind, deciding they'll just order something from the club instead. The guys aren't hungry, Jungkook informing you they'd grabbed something to eat before heading to the escape room.

The moment you step outside, the fresh night air hits your face, making you instinctively take a deep breath. You ask him how the escape room went, learning they all ended up in the same group and already agreed they'd have to come back someday and split into two teams instead, especially since the place offered a competitive mode. It wouldn't be Jungkook if he didn't enjoy a little competition.

In return, you tell him about the amusement park, briefly mentioning Zara throwing up after one of the rides and how the employees let all of you skip most of the lines thanks to Maya's BRIDE sash. Before long, you've already reached the kebab place tucked just around the corner. You order your food and barely wait a minute before taking your first bite.

It's always the first bite that's the best, a satisfied moan slipping from your lips. Deciding to eat outside, the two of you step back onto the sidewalk, both of you knowing eating a kebab can get messy. Jungkook doesn't mind the fresh air after spending most of the evening indoors. While you happily eat, leaning against the brick wall of the building, he slowly paces up and down the sidewalk, watching the street that's still alive despite the late hour.

Once you've had enough bites to satisfy your hunger, your eyes naturally drift toward him. He looks like he stepped straight out of a magazine. One look at you and anyone could tell you've been celebrating something – your hair is a little messy, your makeup no longer as fresh, your face hot from dancing. Jungkook, meanwhile, somehow still looks effortlessly put together.

“You have a nice ass too,” you comment, wiping the corner of your mouth. Jungkook comes to an abrupt stop, his eyes meeting yours before a laugh finally escapes him.

“Where is this coming from?”

You shrug before handing him the rest of your kebab. There's nothing left but meat anyway. It always ends up at the bottom, and you've always preferred the vegetables and all the dressing. Jungkook knows exactly what that means, taking a generous bite without hesitation. Even though he decided not to order one himself, you know this man could probably eat enough for an entire village.

“Just giving back a compliment.”

He watches you as he swallows, a chuckle escaping him. “Is that all it is?”

A cool breeze briefly ruffles his hair, the black satin shirt shifting with it and exposing just a little more of his chest. One hand still holds the kebab, veins standing out across the back of it.

“God.”

The word slips out before you can stop it, immediately pulling you out of your own thoughts as you're met with a pair of thoroughly amused eyes.

“I forgot you get horny when you're drunk.”

You gape at him in offense, frowning. “I'm not drunk,” you point out. “And I'm not horny.”

“Okay,” he hums. “It's just one of your stages.”

“Shut up,” you scold, trying to hide your laugh as he laughs too. See? You can joke about it. It's still a thin line, maybe a little too soon for jokes like that, but somehow it feels normal. Maybe because only the two of you know exactly why he said it.

Jungkook finishes the last bite of your kebab in no time before tilting his head toward the way you came. “Ready to head back?”

You nod, falling into step beside him as the conversation naturally picks back up. And you're happy because you finally get to talk to him. Just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Maybe, just maybe, you're a little disappointed by how short the walk back is.

a/n: happy birthday to that one reader, you know who you are! thank you for your continued support and love throughout this story ♡

a special thank you to every reader who has purchased early access or simply supported me through ko-fi. your support genuinely means more than you know. thanks to you, I'm still able to make room in my life for writing and continue doing something I love in my free time. every purchase and donation helps me keep that time for MH instead of having to take on a side job and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

Thank you for allowing me to keep creating and, most importantly, thank you for being here and reading. 

If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ 

"Again." You exhale and tap the bottom of the glass against the countertop before watching liquid pour into it again. The liquid comes to a dripping stop at the lip of the bottle and only fills up a quarter of the glass in front of you. "Oh, come on. Give me a little more." You whine at the petty refill the bartender gave you.

"I think you've had enough already." He twirls the bottle so that the rest of the drink flows back down the neck of the bottle. He wiggles his brows up and down, and the right corner of his lip curls up. "I'm only giving you one more round because I feel bad for you."

"So you pity me?"

The bartender turns his back to you to set the bottle back in the space on the shelf. He spins back around empty-handed and leans his right forearm on the countertop at a ninety-degree angle from his torso. His upper body leans forward, closing the distance between you two. "Hardly. Not unless I want to be pitied too."

You lift the glass off the countertop and take a sip of the liquid courage and swallow it slowly. You lower the glass back down as you speak and meet his eyes. "Is your girlfriend ignoring your calls too?"

His right fingers fold in toward the center of his palm, and the veins on his right forearm twitch as his fingers ball into a firm fist. His chest rises up and down as he inhales, then exhales deeply. He breaks eye contact with you, and his eyes focus on the glass that you had just set down. "No, she, uh, she cheated on me."

"Ha, you're worse off than me." You chuckle while picking up the glass again and slowly rotating it in your left hand. The liquid in the glass twirls as it moves, and you watch it swirl around the bottom.

You hear your phone buzz against the countertop and the screen lights up to show an incoming text message. You exhale softly and tilt your phone toward you to read the preview of the notification. The preview isn't enough to get a reaction out of you, so you set the glass in your left hand back down to unlock your phone and read the entire message. Not even five seconds later, you react to the text with a scoff.

"What? What's wrong?" The bartender blinks while his eyes are on you.

"It's my boyfriend, or my ex-boyfriend actually." You keep your eyes on the phone screen in front of you. "He—" You chuckle softly, dumbfounded at how the text message reads to you. "He said that he wants to break up. He also thanked me for everything over the past three years." You pause before looking up from your phone at the man in front of you. "He makes it sound like I did him a favor by dating him."

The bartender takes a breath before thinking about what to say to you. He knows whatever he says won't put you in a better mood, but he tries nonetheless, "That asshole isn't worth it. Just forget about him and move on."

"That doesn't help." You blink twice at him.

"That's all I've got, sorry." He shrugs and grabs a rag from underneath the bar to wipe the countertop down. "I gotta close up, so get out."

You gasp in response, "You're kicking out your best friend, Peter? How rude."

"You still have to pay." He glances up at you while rubbing the rag on the surface in circular motions. He sees you pout in response to being patronized and chuckles. "I'll drop you off on my way home." He offers to make up for asking you to pay.

"And that's why you're my best friend, Peter." You rest your face in the palms of your hands with your forearms anchored on the countertop below you by your elbows.

6:00 AM

"Wake up."

You groan in your sleep at the sound of your brother's nagging. Pulling the comforter up over your head, you ignore his wake-up call and try to fall back asleep.

"Come on, wake up." Your brother repeats himself and folds over your comforter so that your head is exposed.

"What?" You whine and finally open your eyes. Slightly lifting your head, you read the time on the alarm clock sitting on your night table. You exhale and make eye contact with your brother, who stares down at you impatiently. "It's six o'clock in the morning, Taehyung."

"I heard you got dumped last night."

"Are you keeping tabs on me?" Your voice is hoarse as your sleepy eyes remain on your brother.

"Peter told me." Taehyung checks his watch before continuing his thought. "So, I'm going to have Jeongguk take care of you."

You sit up on the bed after hearing your brother's last statement. Shaking your head, you squint. "Wait, you lost me. Why do I need to be babysat after a breakup?"

"You're not being babysat." Taehyung exhales, "I'm going to Europe on business. And now that you don't have a boyfriend anymore, I don't feel safe leaving you here alone."

"Why don't you feel safe? I'm 27 years old. I can take care of myself." You reassure your older brother that you are all grown up and more than capable of living on your own now.

"Just trust me." Taehyung insists and checks his watch once more. "Shit, I'm late." He's about to walk out of your bedroom, but you stop him by practically lunging out of bed and grabbing his arm from behind.

"I take it back! I need my older brother here! You can't leave me with Jeongguk!" You whine, not wanting to be left in the hands of Jeon Jeongguk.

"Relax. He holds a 10th-degree black belt in Taekwondo and a 10th Dan in Judo." He turns his head to the right and emphasizes that Jeongguk is trained to protect you from any danger or harm.

"That's exactly why you can't leave. He scares me." You mumble the last part and pout.

"He's not going to hurt you. You're in good hands." He laughs while slowly sliding your hand off his arm. "I have to go now. I can't miss my flight." Taehyung ruffles your hair and rushes out of your bedroom toward the front door of the apartment you share with him. "I'll text you when I get there, and Jeongguk will be here in two hours!"

"Wait! Taehyung!" You rush out behind him, but he's halfway out the door already.

"Bye!" Your brother's voice fades as he disappears behind the door.

You stand still with your hands at your sides and stare at the door. "Whatever, I'm going back to sleep." You speak through a yawn and drag your feet back into your bed to get more shut-eye.

8:00 AM

You're woken up for the second time this morning, and this time it's by the annoying tune of your doorbell. You whine and squeeze your eyelids further together to avoid waking up. The rhythmic tone sounds again from the living room, which forces your eyes open. You turn your head to look at the alarm clock as you did two hours ago. It's exactly 8 o'clock, right when Jeongguk was supposed to show up. "Why does he have to be so punctual? Couldn't he have been late? Or not shown up at all?"

The doorbell rings for the third time.

"Go away. I don't need a babysitter." You pull the covers over your head in frustration as you complain. Then, there's silence. You lie completely still under the comforter and blink. "Did he leave?" You mumble to yourself just before you hear beeping coming from the front door. "Wait a— He's not coming in, is—" You rush out of bed and stop just outside your bedroom. "He?" You breathe out to finish your thought and stare at your brother's best friend standing a few feet away from you with his back to the door. "You can't just come in like that!"

"Mr. Kim told me to unlock the door with the passcode if no one came to the door after three rings." Jungkook bows his head slightly while standing still like a statue. "I'm sorry, miss."

You scoff at how formal he sounds. "You don't have to be formal with me, Jeongguk. We've known each other basically for our whole lives."

"Mr. Kim asked me to take care of you on his behalf. He asked me to guarantee your safety and provide you with anything you need while he's away." Jeongguk doesn't move from where he's standing and briefs you on his duties in a monotonous voice.

You chuckle, "You sound like my brother's paying you to take care of me."

"He is," Jeongguk answers right away with a straight face.

"He's paying—" You breathe through your words, not finishing your sentence at how dumbfounded you are. "He's really paying you?" You raise your eyebrows and fold your arms across your chest.

"Yes, and very handsomely, might I add." He confirms without hesitation. "Mr. Kim asked if I could take care of you and said that he'd compensate me for it. So, I told him that I'd take the job."

"Wow, I didn't peg you to be all about money. You've changed."

"I've always been this way, miss." Jeongguk reminds you.

You don't know what to say to that, so you just exhale and tell him to come in with your right hand. "Fine, whatever you say. At least drop the formality and speak casually with me. It's weird being called 'miss'."

He follows your instruction and takes one step inside the apartment. "No, it's okay. I'm more comfortable addressing you that way."

"I don't think that we're compatible." You motion with your hand again. "If you're going to come in, take more than one step. You've been here before."

"Yes, but that was when Mr. Kim was also here. You're here alone right now, and it's never been just the two of us."

You raise your brows. "So, what? You're uncomfortable being here with just me?"

"No, but you might be. So, I'll keep my distance."

Shaking your head, you walk up to him and tug on his left jacket sleeve, pulling him inside. "I'm not." You pause while bringing him into the living room and guiding him to the armchair next to the sofa. "I'll bring you some coffee."

Jeongguk sighs as he watches you turn your back on him. He stands next to the armchair to take off his coat and folds the right shoulder of the piece of outerwear over the left before hanging it neatly over the back of the chair. Clearing his throat over the sound of brewing coffee, Jeongguk sits down in the seat and leans his upper body forward. He rests his forearms on his lap, folding his hands together, and keeps his focus on them until he sees a mug of coffee on the table in front of him. "Thank you," he whispers while separating his hands to reach for the mug and take a sip of coffee.

"Seriously, you don't have to be so tense. Just think of this as hanging with your best friend's little sister." You sit down on the sofa next to Jeongguk with your left leg folded underneath your right, which rests over your left ankle. You reach for the cushion that slouches on your right while watching Jeongguk sit quietly in the chair, like he's a stranger. You hug the cushion against your chest and laugh softly to fill the awkward silence. "Say something."

"The coffee's good." He mumbles, though it sounds more like he's talking to himself rather than to you. Jeongguk goes back to staying silent and doing only what he was told to do.

"That's it?" You raise an eyebrow while looking at the right side of his face, hoping for a little more than that. "Wow." You chuckle while shaking your head left and right.

"My job is to follow you around, not make small talk." Jeongguk turns his head to the right to make eye contact with you.

You blink twice at him before continuing the conversation. "Wait, you're going to follow me around from behind as you do with my brother?" You pause. "Even to my class in two hours?"

"Well, that is in my job description. I did promise Mr. Kim to keep you safe all hours of the day." He still wears a straight face.

You let out another chuckle. "No thanks. You can tell Taehyung that you saw me and that I'm okay. I'll call you if I need anything, okay?" You unfold your left leg from underneath your right one to stand up.

Jeongguk follows and stands up from the armchair. "I can't do that, miss."

You sigh and just let him have his way. "Fine. Let's go."

9:30 AM

You walk on campus with Jeongguk towering over you from behind, surveilling for any potential danger. Everyone who passes you from both directions reacts to the bodyguard working behind you. Both guys and girls arch their brows at the situation.

Embarrassed by all the reactions people are giving, you come to an abrupt stop, which makes Jeongguk's feet skid to a stop behind you. "Jeongguk." You turn around to face him, but he avoids eye contact with you and stands with his head slightly angled down so as not to look you in the eye. "If you're going to follow me around, at least walk alongside me. Having you hovering behind me like that makes me uncomfortable, and people are looking at us weird." You whisper the end of your sentence so as not to let other people hear it.

"I'm supposed to be behind you at all times. That is the best way for me to watch out for you." He continues to speak in a monotonous manner.

You exhale deeply in frustration. "Are you going to keep speaking in that tone?"

"Yes." He says in that same tone.

"And you're going to keep hovering behind me?" You ask, even though you know the answer to that question.

"Yes." He looks down at you with blank eyes.

You throw your head back and groan, "Whatever. I'm going to class." Without caring what he has to say, you turn around and walk ahead of him.

11:30 AM

"Oh, geez! You scared me!" Your feet come to an abrupt stop, and your body slightly leans back at the sight of the necktie on the man standing in your way. You strengthen the grip of your right fist on the tote bag strap over your right shoulder. "Have you been standing here for the past hour and a half?" You lift your head back and let your eyes find his.

"Yes." He answers.

"That goddamn 'yes'." You exhale through your words, "Are you a robot? Do you answer my brother like that when he talks to you?"

"Yes." He repeats that one-syllable answer.

"Oh my—" You exhale sharply.

"I'm sorry." He bows his head, then lifts it back up straight to keep looking down at you.

"No, I didn't say that to—" You cut yourself off as you stare at Jeongguk, who doesn't seem one bit bothered. "Never mind."

"Am I frustrating you?" He asks that like it isn't obvious.

"No, not really." You reply sarcastically and walk ahead of him.

Jeongguk follows behind you. "You can be honest with me, miss." He permits you to openly speak your mind.

"Fine." You spin around to face him. "I'm annoyed, okay? It's bad enough that my ex-boyfriend dumped me. Now I have to be babysat because my brother doesn't trust that I can last on my own for however long he's gone." You pause before continuing your thoughts, "And you are frustrating me, Jeongguk. First, you show up unannounced. Then, you keep following me. I know it's only been three hours, but it's bothersome. It's like someone's watching me." You exhale and vent some more, "And your tone. Can't you do something about it? I get that you're used to being stoic and that's what your job requires, but it's really frustrating for the person you're talking to."

"Are you feeling better now?" Jeongguk keeps speaking in that same tone, with his eyes on you.

It's like talking to a wall. "You are—" You breathe, "Impossible." Your head turns away from him as you look into the distance. "I have to go to my next class." You turn around to continue your way down the hallway

"I'll go with you." Jeongguk takes a step forward to walk with you.

You immediately stop and turn back around to face him again. "You can go wait in the car, Jeongguk. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

"It's my—" Jeongguk starts, but you cut him off.

"Don't say that it's your job. My brother might be paying you, but he's not here right now. I won't tell him that you left me alone for ninety minutes, so go wait in the car." You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for an answer from him.

"Alright. I'll be in the car, miss." He listens to you without objection and bows his head slightly before walking away from you.

You exhale softly as you stare at the backside of the tall man walking away in the opposite direction. "Finally."

"Wassup, girl?" Peter swings his left arm over your shoulder and stands on your right, looking at Jeongguk's backside with you. "Who's that?"

"My brother's bodyguard. Taehyung's away on business and asked his bodyguard to babysit me while he's gone. I just found out this morning, and his bodyguard has been with me since eight o'clock." You fill Peter in.

"I didn't know your brother had a bodyguard." Peter nods his head before glancing at your furrowed brows.

"That's him, and he's extremely frustrating. He's so stuffy and inflexible. He speaks in this monotonous manner and uses the same one-word answer for everything like he's a robot."

"Are you close with him?" Peter wants to know more about your history with Jeongguk, judging from how you describe him in such detail.

"He and Taehyung are best friends. Our families know each other, so we all grew up together. He was a little inflexible back then too." You glance at Peter, who seems intrigued by that part of your childhood. "I forgot. I never told you about that."

"Yeah, you miraculously hid that from me after we met when you transferred to our high school." Peter feels left out, like knowing that part of your childhood would've changed anything.

"I never really got to see him since my family moved. I think he's more inflexible now than he was when we were younger." You shake your head before meeting your best friend's eyes. "Let's go. We're gonna be late for class."

Peter's left arm is still relaxed over your shoulder as you two walk to your next class.

1:00 PM

"Buy me lunch." You inform Jeongguk of your hunger cues and demand lunch while climbing into the right side of the back seat of his SUV.

"What would you like to eat?" He looks at you through the rearview mirror as you buckle your seat belt.

"Should we get pizza?" Peter asks you while jumping into the other side of the back seat.

You nod at Peter, and then meet Jeongguk's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Buy us pizza, Jeongguk."

"Who is he, miss?" Jeongguk asks about the stranger in the back seat sitting next to you.

"This is Peter. We've been best friends since high school." You introduce Jeongguk to your best friend, then turn your head to your left to do the same to Peter. "Peter, that's Jeongguk. My brother's best friend and bodyguard."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Peter's eyes meet Jeongguk's through the mirror as he raises his right hand to greet Jeongguk.

"It's nice to meet you." Jeongguk continues to use that monotonous and formal voice. He glances at you again through the mirror. "I will buy you pizza, miss. But first, everyone must have their seat belt on." He talks to Peter while keeping his eyes on you.

"Sorry." You hear Peter whisper before he buckles his seat belt.

Jeongguk nods at the clicking sound and starts the car to drive to the pizza place downtown.

"Why does he call you miss? And why is he so formal?" Peter leans to his right and whispers to you.

"I don't know. He says he's more comfortable calling me that." You whisper back, slightly shrugging your shoulders.

2:00 PM

"Thanks for lunch, Jeongguk." You talk to Jeongguk while swinging your tote bag over the back of the sofa in your living room. Peter follows in behind you and drops his backpack on the floor next to your bedroom.

Jeongguk shuts the front door and walks into your apartment. He notices Peter's backpack slouching on the floor. "Is he staying here?"

"Yeah. We have a project to do. We're going to work on it in my room." You tell Jeongguk, who's standing a few feet away from you. You turn to your right and file through your tote bag to take out your laptop, a thin spiral notebook, and your pencil case. "Let's go in." You walk past Peter into your bedroom.

Peter lifts his backpack again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.

Jeongguk is now alone in the living room and stares at the closed bedroom door. He exhales softly and takes his eyes off the door. He walks up to the back of the sofa and fixes the position of your tote bag resting against the cushions. His eyes find their way back to your bedroom door, and he marches up to it.

The back of his right hand lightly knocks on the painted piece of wood, to which he hears you respond with, "Come in." He opens the door and is met with your curious eyes.

"Do you need something, Jeongguk?" Your voice slightly softens mindlessly, as if you're talking to your brother.

"You should work with your door open." Jeongguk swings the door completely open so that the bottom left corner of the inside of the door hits the doorstop attached to the wall behind it.

"Why? Just leave it closed." You blink, not seeing the problem with having the door closed while you and Peter work.

"I need to keep an eye on you. That's what I was told to do." Jeongguk reminds you again that he's here on behalf of your older brother.

"Why? Do you think something's going to happen if we're behind closed doors?" You laugh, glancing at Peter, who wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"Yes." He bluntly answers.

You scoff, "You don't have to worry, Jeongguk. Nothing will happen. You trust me, right?" You raise your eyebrows at the man in the suit, who stiffly stands in front of the open door.

"I trust you, miss." He blinks before speaking again, "But again, I can't do my job if I don't know what's going on. I promised Mr. Kim that I'd keep you safe."

"Jeongguk." You whine, "I am safe. I'm in my own house, and you're here. Am I wrong about any of that?"

"No." Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Just trust me." You raise your eyebrows. "Okay?"

"Okay, miss." He gives in, grabbing the knob and pulling the door towards him as he backs out of your bedroom through the doorway, then closes it again. Jeongguk holds onto the door handle for a second before letting go.

He walks away from the door while taking off his coat, folding one side over the other and carefully hanging it over the armchair in the living room as he did this morning. He then takes his phone out of his suit jacket and sets it down on the coffee table. He hangs the suit jacket over the armchair on top of his coat in the same way. Moving over to the sofa, he loosens his necktie before unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up. After taking a seat in the middle of the sofa, Jeongguk reaches over for his cell phone and wakes up the screen in the process. A soft smile curls on his face as he affectionately stares at the little girl on his lockscreen before swiping up to unlock his phone. After he checks that he has no new messages, he sets his phone back down on the table and exhales deeply.

"Wow, talk about overprotective." Peter chuckles while stretching his arms out in front of him.

"I know. He's a bit—" You don't know how to describe Jeongguk anymore.

"A bit? Try a lot." Peter adjusts his position on your bed, glancing at his laptop sitting next to him on top of the comforter. "When did you say your brother's coming back?"

"I don't know. He's probably not going to be back for a while. The company's launching the brand in Europe, so it's going to take a few months, at least." You scribble in your notebook while talking.

"Well, at least when your brother comes back, you won't need to deal with that guy anymore." Peter grabs his laptop and rests it on his lap.

You sigh, "Yeah. It's just a matter of how long I'm stuck with Jeongguk."

6:00 PM

"Do you have any ramen? I'm hungry." Peter yawns and asks about food since he last ate four and a half hours ago.

"I should. Let me go see." You answer while typing the last few words of your sentence on your laptop. You inhale, then exhale deeply as you take your hands off of your laptop and spin around in your desk chair to get up. Once you open your bedroom door, you see Jeongguk lying down on the sofa. Oh, right. He's still here. "He's still here." Your eyes meet Peter's as you verbalize your thought about the bodyguard that hasn't left to keep an eye on things.

"What's he doing?" Peter furrows his brows.

"He's on the sofa. He's sleeping, I think." You whisper, not wanting to wake Jeongguk up. The door creaks as you open it further. You then take slow steps toward the sofa.

Jeongguk is lying on his back with his legs stretched out along the entire length of the piece of furniture, and his right ankle is crossed over his left. His arms are folded across his chest, and his eyes are closed. His chest slowly rises up and down as he's sound asleep.

You approach him and kneel down next to the sofa in front of him. You notice that his necktie is slightly loose and the very top button of his white dress shirt is undone. "Now that he's lying down like this, he's more like a person." Your eyes then find the tattoos on his right forearm as they're exposed from when he rolled up his sleeves earlier. "Since when does he have tattoos?" You mumble to yourself, scanning the drawings inked on his skin. You then look back at his face, examining his features.

Maybe you were staring too long, or maybe he felt your presence. About two minutes later, Jeongguk's eyelids open, and his eyes meet yours, which widen slightly at the sudden eye contact. His pupils stay locked onto yours as the two of you stare at each other without saying a word.

© kookied 2026. All rights reserved. All content shared on this page is my own, original work. The above story and characters are fictitious. Any real people mentioned are solely used for visualization. 

Jungkook doesn’t even realize he’s got a nipple kink until you’re sinking down on his cock. Your hips move sensually, your head thrown back in pleasure as your pretty tits bounce right in his face. You are perfect.

He moves without thinking, leaning up to wrap his lips around your hardened nipple, his cock twitching against your gummy walls while you moan sinfully in response. His eyes flutter close, his large hands take your soft hips, and he sucks your nipple hard. “Jungkook-“ you sigh his name with a little whine, your pretty lil’ pussy clenching around his length when his tongue swirls around your areola.

Jungkook could stay just like this, suckling your nipples as you keep his cock nice and warm with your sweet pussy. But it’s not enough for you, his teasing making you squirm in his lap, your fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer to your chest with a plea.

He groans, wetting your nipples with his tongue, his fingers digging into your waist as he finally moves you up and down his cock again. He splits you open so deliciously, smashing the throbbing mushroom tip of his cock into your cervix over and over again. You feel delirious from how good it feels. The entire time, his tongue laps over your sensitive nipples, taking turns to give each of your breasts attention as he moves you like his own personal toy. You're his own personal cock sleeve, feeling the way your arousal seeps down his cock and pools messily on the sheets underneath.

He moves onto his knees now, switching positions so your ass is in his lap, but your shoulders lie on the bed with your head on the pillows. The position makes your back arch as he ruts into you passionately.

Your eyes roll, mouth dropping open as your pretty tits shake with each roll of his hips. In this angle, his cock drags along your walls, forcing you to feel every inch stuff you full. You feel all the veins on his big cock throb as they brush all your sweet spots, and the warmth in your tummy spreads, your thighs shaking as he pumps into you, reverently.

“Look so pretty - hah - like this,” Jungkook’s hooded eyes catch yours, pulling you by your hips to meet each one of his nasty thrusts. “Pretty pussy's soaking me wet,” he leans over you, his eyes dark as you hook your legs around his slim waist. Your stomach flutters when Jungkook licks a line from your stomach up to the valley of your breasts with his tongue. His grin is absolutely wolfish as you keen, your walls pulsing around his shaft.

When his breath pants over your spit-covered breasts, you mewl. “Jungko- oh fuck!” His teeth sink into your nipple, tugging the sensitive bud into his mouth, sending an electric zing straight to your dripping cunt. Your sweet juices gush, pussy clamping tight around his fat cock as he flicks his tongue over the bite like it would soothe the pain that turned pleasure.

“But you squeeze me tighter - uhn! T-tighter when I play with your nipples,” Jungkook’s heavy balls smack into your ass faster, the room filling with debauched slick noises of your cunt weeping on his cock. “My dirty girl,” His purr runs a shiver down your spine, and you thought you couldn't get wetter, but then his mouth marks the underside of your breasts with a dark hickey.

Jungkook's addicted to the way it makes you squeeze around him, and his eyes swirl with a little chaos as he groans against your skin.

-

It’s been hours, you're sobbing big, fat tears as Jungkook drives into you over and over again. Your nails carve angry red lines down his broad shoulders, and he makes your eyes cross lewdly.

His mouth has covered every inch of your breasts in hickies, biting his initials with his teeth for you to find later. And you’ve lost track of how many times he’s made you cum on his cock, he’s still hard, still relentless, stuffing you full over and over again.

The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, filthily, globs of his cum leaking from the top to decorate your gummy walls with his precum. His tongue is obscene as it continues to cover your oversensitive nipples with his saliva.

“Hurts sooo good, mamas.” Jungkook’s words come out as a rasp, slurring together as you take each one of his thrusts with a gasp or a whine. “Pretty pussy - ungh- pretty pussy keeps suckin’ me right back.” His body is slick with sweat, hips rutting his tender cock into your wet heat. “Can’t stop,” and he’s sucking your breast back into his mouth, muffling his low groans.

“Please, it’s t-too much,” your eyes are blurry with your tears. Your lips are puffy from the breaks he gives your breasts to kiss you stupid. You don’t even know what to say, let alone think. Your breast aches along with your pussy, but it’s a kind of pain that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. “Jungkook, please!”

Your cum bubbles a creamy ring around the base of his cock, smearing onto his pelvis as he grinds deeper into you. His large hands pin your wrists by your head, his body moving against yours like an animal in heat. His mind is too far gone; he’s lost his mind.

“No, no, you can - oh fuck - you can take it.” Jungkook breaks. You felt like his cock was trying to dig up to your throat, his thigh hiking up to sink even deeper. Your head spins, and he’s got you right on the edge for the nth time. “So good for me, gonna take it all - yeah, gonna,” Jungkook babbles, his jaw slacking open as his thrusts get sloppier. “Gonna cum, fill you up- mmm - yeah, you’d like that, right?”

You’re so dumb off his cock by this point, you nod at anything he says. “Yes, yes, right there, right there,” your hips move to meet each thrust, your thighs quivering around his waist. “Wanna’ cum- gonna cum!”

Jungkook is back to mouthing your nipples, your pussy squeezing so tight it’s hard for him to move, left to rutting against you desperately. “Yeah, gonna cum? Fuck you’re so tight- let’s cum together, Pretty? Lemme fill you to the brim, breed your pussy - oh fuck, fuck, fuck - gonna give me more reasons to suck on your pretty titties.”

You don’t realize his rambles would fuck you up as much as they do. Because you are left speechless, gasping for air as you fall apart on his cock again. Your legs shake, your nails clawing into the drenched sheets as your vision goes white.

You cum so hard it splashes Jungkook’s stomach, your expression obscene, pornographic, that it makes Jungkook's hips stutter. “Oh fuck, baby-“ his hips press into yours, and he lets out a guttural groan, his cock jerking as he does what he promised to do. Rope after rope of his hot white cum floods your quivering pussy, filling you to the brim as he shivers above you.

By the time your orgasm resides, Jungkook’s cum is still flowing, warming you up before it spills from your overfilled pussy. And when the ringing in your ears resides, you blink repeatedly, your eyes moving down to see Jungkook is panting, mouthing your oversensitive nipples, mumbling praise into your marked skin.

So, it’s not a surprise when Jungkook found himself sitting in your car, twisting one of his rings around his finger absentmindedly as you pulled over to the side of the road. The rain was coming down so heavily that neither one of you could see five feet in front of you.

Jungkook huffs a breath, shaking his head slightly as you put your vehicle in park. You guys were going to have to wait it out. “Good thing we left when we did, huh?” He asks, his eyes flitting to you, and then to the backseat where your new books sat in the bag. As a date, Jungkook offered to buy you books or manga, anything really, just to hang out with you. “Or your books would have gotten wet,” his tongue flicks over his lip piercing and he looks back at you.

He notices almost immediately that you’re staring intently at his piercing, his eyebrow raising as you slowly nod your head with a little ‘uh-huh.’ You seem lost in thought, your cheeks blushing red, your breath coming out in small pants. You were practically squirming in your seat.

What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?

Because Jungkook knows the signs, you’re turned on, but he doesn’t understand why, his eyebrows furrowing as he gave you an amused smirk. “Why you staring at me like that, Pretty? I haven’t even tried to kiss you today.” Not that he didn’t want to. He was hoping if he was on his best behavior you’d make out in the car for a bit by the end of this date.

His dark brown eyes zero in on your mouth when your tongue comes out, rolling over your plush lips, wetting them as you shamelessly check him out. Your face burns redder, a little out of embarrassment but you push forward keeping eye contact with him as you spoke up. “I uhm,” your eyes flicker to the radio quietly playing in the background before going back to Jungkook. “I always had this fantasy of sucking someone’s cock in a car.”

The words come out softly, innocently, your eyelashes fluttering in his direction. And Jungkook is instantly hard. “Oh fuck,” he curses under his breath, eyes wide as you face him almost nervously. “You wanna suck my cock right now, Baby?” His hand goes to his dick, adjusting his hard cock through his jeans and your eyes follow the movement. You lick your lips again and give a small nod, still staring at the bulge in his pants.

“Please-“

Jungkook’s never unbuckled his seatbelt faster in his life. The metal bit smacking his car door with a clang that makes you giggle. Jungkook loves your laugh, his lips curving into a grin as he watches you mirror his movements, unbuckling yourself slowly. “How'd you want me, baby?” The car is small but there is multiple way to do this.

Jungkook’s mind flashes different images of you as he thinks about it. You could just lean over the console, it could be a weird angle but you could still reach and wrap those pretty lips around his cock and it’d feel amazing. Or he could push his seat as far back as he could and you can squeeze between his thighs-

“Could we go to the backseat?” Your voice is just a little hesitant as you bring Jungkook from his head. He nods, eagerly, earning another giggle from you as he clambers to the back, his back leaning against the door. The rain is still pounding down on your car with such thick density you two couldn’t even see outside the windows anymore. It also meant no one would be able to see you inside. Perfect.

Jungkook spreads his legs, making more room in a small space before helping you follow him to the back. You end up in his lap, straddling him as his arms wrap around your back. Both of your faces are so close, your nose nudges his and he gives you a charming smile, “hey.”

You match his grin and breath a quiet, “hi.” He’s so warm against you, his arms encasing you, his chest breathing deeply against yours. He’s always been so overwhelming for you, but in an excellent way.

Jungkook’s nose bumps yours and even though you’re all alone, he whispers against your lips. “Can I kiss you, Pretty?” It turns you into putty, a little noise coming from the back of your throat as you nod your head and then Jungkook’s hands are in your hair closing the distance between the two of you.

Jungkook kisses you like it’ll be the last. His mouth claiming yours a little roughly, his tongue not wasting time to deepen the kiss. It leaves you breathless and lightheaded, melting as his teeth nip your bottom lip, pulling it slightly before he’s pulling you even closer. His hips move on their own accord, his big hands holding your hips possessively as he takes the lead, moving you on his lap with small rolls.

Jungkook’s love every minute that passes. He loves that your quiet girl persona melts when you’re with him, that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. You sitting pretty in his lap, his hands under your baggy sweater, exploring your body you hide behind your big clothes as you roll your hips on his lap. He groans, mind dizzy, his lips kiss-bitten as he tilts his head back. He has to blink a few times to focus, his eye heavy-lidded as your hands rest against his chest, clutching his leather jacket as his own hands slide up higher. His warm hands cup your breasts over your bra, squeezing the soft flesh and watching as you moan, eyes fluttering close for him.

You seem just as dazed as him, with the way you blink at him, your pretty lips curving in a pout as you look down at him. “What’s wrong, hmm?” Jungkook’s licking his lips, hands squeezing your sides to urge you to answer him, loving how you never stop moving against his lap.

And it shouldn’t be adorable to see you whine, “wanna- I wanna suck your cock.” But fuck, it is. His smile filled with amusement as his said cock, twitches underneath you. He knows you have to feel it with the way your hips stutter in movement.

Jungkook hums, and moves his hips up, smirking when you gasp, moving himself further back as he gives you a nod. “I ain’t stopping you, Pretty. You can do whatever you want with me. I’m yours.”

His words bring a shiver down your spine nearly freezing you in place but then you move. Shuffling, just a little awkwardly, to get between his legs. You’re now eye level to his pelvis and you can’t help yourself, reaching out to touch him.

It takes everything for Jungkook to not close his eyes in pleasure, watching you between his legs in the backseat of your car. He fears he may cum untouched if you didn’t places your palms on his knees. You give him a cute smile, which is crazy from the sinful act you asked to do to him. Okay, just kidding, Jungkook closes his eyes briefly to focus cause he’s definitely going to cum way too fast otherwise.

He’s never had a reaction like this with anyone before. And it’s crazy to him that he had only met you through a class project for college??

Your nails dig into his leg and his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as you grab his attention from his racing thoughts. “Eyes on me,” you hum softly and Jungkook groans, loudly, head nodding in agreement immediately. He watches as your nails drag up his thighs, his muscles twitching under your touch. His jaw dropping as you grab his cock through his jeans, squeezing him and then rubbing your palm up his length. You seem just as much in awe as he was, “you’re so hard.”

Jungkook feels delirious, nodding his head, watching as your hands move higher, your fingers swiftly unbuttoning his jeans. “Yeah, baby.” He huffs softly, his hips moving up so he could help drag both his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock. “I think you’re insanely hot, fuck, you could probably just hold my hand in class and I’d get hard.”

He knows he probably should be embarrassed by his confession but he doesn’t care, he means every word and laughs a little when you end up blushing instead. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again, and he gives you a wink that makes you shake your head amused. And then your trailing your gaze back down.

Jungkook was big, long, and cherry red at the tip. Your mind can’t help but think back to the times he's filled you full. Your thighs clench together, your lips parting as his heavy cock leans against his abdomen already leaking pre-cum. “You like it, huh?” Jungkook grins, and you’re blushing harder. “You don’t have to be shy, I know you do.” He oozes confidence, cockiness, the same flashbacks crossing his mind making him twitch at the memories.

“Shut up,” your demand is gentle, your eyes not quite meeting his which makes his smirk grow. But it doesn’t last long, his jaw dropping again as you wrap a hand around his shaft. Your fingers can’t wrap around it fully, and the size difference makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. You’ve effectively shut him up, your eyes widening so you could take in every face he makes, your hand stroking up to the tip of his cock, slowly.

The power you feel being on your knees, making him feel so good from such a small movement of your hand, should be studied. Your eyes soaking up the way his eyes flutter close, a groan falling from his lips as your thumb swipes over the head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum before squeezing just so. He shivers, blinking heavily as he looks down at you like you are his salvation.

“Eyes on me,” you repeat again and then you’re bending your head down. Your mouth swallowing his tip, your tongue swirling along the head of his cock, making him clutch the headrest behind him.

“Oh fuck-“ his gasp is like pretty music in your ears and you’re not hesitating to take more of him, the wet heat of your mouth sinking lower until he hits the back of your throat.

The car begins to fill with his groans and the wet sucking of your mouth bobbing on his cock. You keep one hand wrapped around his length, for what doesn’t fit in your mouth. And you bob your head, making sure with each movement, his tip hits the back of your mouth, tongue massaging the veins under his cock.

Jungkook is seeing stars, gasping “yes, just like that, Pretty. Feel s’good, oh fuck, you're so pretty.” His hand lays on the back of your head, not pushing or pulling, just a subtle gesture- a reminder- of who you’re doing this to. The wet slurps that resonate in the air makes his hips buck lightly, his cock sliding deeper that you gag a little.

Your throat restricts around his shaft and the sound with the feeling makes him moan loudly. You look up at him with tears in your eyes, and he’s a mess. “M’sorry, sorry, felt so good I-“ and then you’re doing it again.

Your hands bracing on his thighs, nails digging into his skin and definitely leaving marks to be discovered later. But none of that matters, he can only focus on the way you keep eye contact with him, sucking him deeper until your nose nudges his pelvis. His balls tighten, cock jerking against your throat making you choke again. And his vision blackens, his body trembling as he suddenly cums.

He curses, babbling your name as his cum shoots down your throat in waves. His hot, sticky white cum fills your mouth as you suck on the head of his cock, your hand stroking the rest to milk everything out of him.

When he’s done, you’re letting go of his cock with a wet ‘plop.’ Your tongue licking your lips clean before you open your mouth for him, showing that you swallowed every last drop.

The sight of you doing that makes his softening cock, twitch, his hands grabbing you and pulling you up for a kiss. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself, his tongue swirling against yours before he eventually pulls back. He eyes, pupils blown wide, meets yours, the both of you panting hard.

It’s still raining heavily.

“Lay back,” Jungkook mumbles with hearts in his eyes. “My turn now.”

“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.

Your laptop. Your phone. Your tablet.

Your eyes were glossy with hope and adrenaline, your feet thumping uncontrollably beneath your chair, a thin layer of sweat forming despite the air-conditioned room wrapping around you in cold comfort.

This was your first time buying concert tickets. Despite being a long-time fan, this was your only chance—because you had finally gathered enough money to secure one.

You had prepared three Weverse accounts under your name and your parents’ names, carefully reserving each slot so you could slip into the presale the moment it opened. You had already studied how fast tickets sold out in other countries...the quickest being around ten minutes. Ten minutes of chaos, of people like you refreshing, praying, losing.

You bit your lip hard enough to feel it sting. You were still in the queue when the screen suddenly shifted, dragging you into a loading page that refused to move. Thirty minutes had already passed, and all three accounts were still stuck.

“Fuck!”

Your eyes widened when two of your accounts abruptly showed session timeout.

With shaky hands, you tried to navigate through it, but everything lagged—hesitating, freezing, slipping away from your control. You cursed under your breath, glancing at your laptop—the only one still holding on, still alive.

Your vision started to blur at the edges. The chances of getting a ticket were thinning by the second, dissolving right in front of you.

“Please, just this one…” you whispered to yourself, eyes locked on the screen with fragile, breaking hope.

Your eyes widened when the screen finally moved.

No Tickets Available.

Just like that, your hopes were crushed.

You slowly looked up at the posters on your walls, the albums stacked neatly on your shelves, the plushies scattered across your bed, and the ARMY Bomb you had recently bought, displayed beside your BTS McDonald’s figurines.

Tears began falling uncontrollably from your eyes, like a flood breaking through something you could no longer hold together. The realization settled in—heavy, final....that you wouldn’t get to see them.

Your lips quivered as you quickly sank onto your bed, pulling your favorite pink cooky plushie close to your chest. You cried into it, letting everything spill out with an aching, exhausted heart.

Your parents tried to comfort you. They knew how much this meant. They had witnessed your journey growing up—how you stayed up all night waiting for comebacks, how you saved every bit of money just to buy new albums, how you would drop everything the moment a Weverse Live started, how you bought multiple happy meals just to complete all the toys, how you binge-watched their content and replayed Run BTS episodes whenever you had free time.

They had seen it all.

How deeply you adored and loved your bias…

Jungkook.

You appreciated how your parents tried to look for tickets online for you, but the number of scams you’d heard about from resellers made you hesitate. Prices were tripled—far beyond your budget. You didn’t want to burden them, even when they insisted they were willing to cover the extra cost.

You were still a student, after all. You told them it was okay—that they should just save the money for your college instead.

“What if you just check in to the hotel they’re staying at? Girl, imagine!” your best friend Mina suggested.

The hot coffee you ordered had already gone cold. The concert was next month, and Mina was now throwing ridiculous ideas at you on how you could possibly see BTS. The supposed study session in the coffee shop had long been forgotten the moment you mentioned the upcoming concert.

“I doubt it. There’s usually no news about it because of their privacy… sometimes I only find out once they’ve already checked in or when they do a Weverse live.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’s at least some news if you really dig into it. How many days is the concert?”

“Two days. And even if I wanted to stalk their hotel, I’m sure a lot of fans would do that too—and the next thing you know, the hotel is fully booked.” you pouted.

You were being realistic. The chances of seeing them at their hotel—or even getting a room there—were slim. With the number of fans camping out and others researching nonstop, you had almost zero chance.

“Do you want to see them or not? Come on, I’ll book a room with you!” she nudged your shoulders, wiggling her brows as she sipped her caramel macchiato.

You chuckled softly. “Of course I do, but I swear, Mina, it’s harder than you think…”

Mina groaned, stomping her feet. “Ugh, fine! But watching the concert online is really fucking boring when you know they’re literally in the same country as you.”

You sighed. Mina wasn’t really a fan, but she knew how much you loved BTS. When she found out you hadn’t secured a ticket, she had been the first to suggest the most ridiculous ideas—stalking their hotel, camping outside the arena, chasing anything that even remotely felt possible.

After a few months since the presale, it had been a hard pill to swallow—but you had finally accepted it. You wouldn’t get to see them. Even if Mina’s ideas lingered at the back of your mind, you knew better. The chances were too low. You’d rather stay at home, wear your cooky pajamas, and stream the concert online in peace.

Still… there were the sleepless nights.

The what-ifs that refused to leave you alone.

What if you had attended the concert? What if you had somehow booked the same hotel? What if you caught a glimpse of their van outside the arena?

Being a fan for almost a decade, you knew those kinds of scenarios only happened in fictional stories. Seeing Jungkook on a random day was like finding a bag of cash in a public restroom stall—completely impossible.

Though… still, a small part of you never fully stopped hoping.

“Also, isn’t our country their last stop?” Mina said, already searching for dates and details on her phone.

“Yeah… that’s why I actually had enough money and time… but I guess luck just wasn’t on my side,” you murmured bitterly, glancing around the busy coffee shop as if the noise could somehow quiet the ache settling in your chest.

Mina suddenly froze, her eyes widening. “Wait—since it’s the last stop… don’t you think they’ll stay longer? Maybe for a few more days, like… I don’t know, rest?”

You had already thought about it—but how on earth would you ever know their whereabouts? You’d only find out once they were already there, or when they went live. And since it would be after the concert, you were certain they’d want to rest, to disappear into privacy for a while.

“Mina… it’s okay. I swear, I’ll be fine.” you assured her, her ideas now more amusing than anything else.

Until your lunch break ended, Mina kept babbling—throwing out unrealistic scenarios straight out of books and fanfics. You laughed at her what-ifs, at the corny places her imagination kept taking you.

You knew she wasn’t doing it to be silly.

She was doing it because she knew you. Knew how badly you wanted to see them. Knew how quiet you’d become once the concert actually started.

So, as your best friend, Mina had decided something else entirely.

A short out-of-town trip. While BTS was in the country. A way for you both to disappear for a while, to breathe, to rest from studies, from expectations, from everything—including the concert you couldn’t attend.

“Mina! Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes widened in shock when you saw the cottage number and the dates.

Mina had booked a five-day beach trip, complete with daily activities that made your head spin just reading them.

“Don’t worry, you can bring your laptop so you can still stream the concert.” she snickered, handing you the itinerary.

“Mina! That’s not what I meant—this is too much,” you groaned.

She giggled, already sitting comfortably on your bed while you scanned through the list she had prepared. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had a girls’ trip.”

You pouted at her, still in disbelief—but the resistance didn’t last. A smile slipped through as you pulled her into a hug anyway. “You and your ideas,” you chuckled.

“Bring cute clothes! Let’s take lots of pics—I want to update my IG!” she said excitedly.

You grinned. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow. My treat.”

Mina shrieked. “God, yes! Let’s go!”

The upcoming concert was still on your mind, but you were also busy preparing for the trip with Mina. You were excited—the small distraction keeping you from spiraling into a full breakdown over not being able to see BTS.

Wearing a cute sundress and brown sandals, you and Mina finally checked in. It was Day 1 of the concert. You had already set an alarm for the online stream later, a quiet kind of excitement settling in at the thought that, at the very least, you had the privilege of watching it while sipping fresh coconut by the sea breeze.

“Why the fuck are you reapplying your lip gloss?” Mina asked when she caught you touching up your makeup right before the concert started.

“To look cute while watching Jungkook,” you giggled, turning your ARMY Bomb on.

After dinner, you and Mina sat on a bench by the sand, your pocket Wi-Fi, laptop, and earphones already set up beside you.

Mina rolled her eyes. “That’s crazier than my ideas.”

You chuckled softly, eyes already fixed on the screen as the countdown began. Your heart raced like you were inside the stadium with them—like the distance didn’t exist at all.

When the concert finally started, Mina had to walk away because you were screaming too loudly, jumping from your seat and almost knocking over the coconut shake on the table.

“Girl, let me walk around and find a cute guy. Your shrieks are lowkey scaring me.” Mina laughed when she came back and saw you on the verge of tears, fanning yourself like you might actually pass out.

“Okay, oka—oh my gosh! They’re performing Dimple! Oh my gosh!” you shouted, already lost in it again.

For two days, you were completely gone in it—fangirling nonstop, fully absorbed in every moment. It was only on Day 3, when Mina had planned actual activities, that you finally stepped away from the screen. Until then, you had spent your time watching, rewatching, and reposting edits like the world outside didn’t exist.

“He’s so hot—I can’t believe he wore that gray shirt. It looked so good on him,” you babbled, telling Mina everything about the concert details and the surprise songs they performed.

The two-night concert had ended like a whirlwind, yet you were still floating on cloud nine. While Mina had been busy taking pictures and scouting for cute guys, you had been replaying everything in your head—taking screenshots, saving edits, and reliving every moment in real time like you couldn’t let it go.

Mina was just happy you enjoyed it. She even swore she almost thought you were going to have a heart attack when you shrieked so loudly after Jungkook lifted his shirt and revealed his abs. Your gallery probably had ten copies of that exact moment.

“And! Guess what!” you said, munching on your breakfast as you wiggled your eyebrows at her.

“Hmm… Jungkook showed his dick?”

“Mina!” Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on the waffles you were eating.

Mina laughed, casually pointing her fork at you. “That would be good though.”

You shook your head quickly, your face still hot. “I mean—would want that—but guess what! He sang the chorus of Still With You in acapella!” you babbled again, as if Mina would fully grasp the weight of it.

For your third day, you and Mina were supposed to ride a yacht. You were already getting dressed when Mina suddenly squealed behind you, hurriedly tying the strap of her sandal.

“He replied! Oh my gosh, he’s treating me to dinner!” Mina said excitedly, quickly glancing at the mirror you were using to fix your hair.

“Huh? Who?”

“This guy I met while you were watching the concert! He wants to see me again!” She showed you her phone.

Your brows furrowed. “He’s inviting you to his cottage later?” you said, reading the message.

Mina’s eyes widened as she looked back at her phone. “Fuck! What should I do?”

“Wait… so you’re not going on the yacht with me?” you concluded.

Mina smiled cheekily, biting her lip. “Well… he’s cute and… hot…”

You raised a brow. “Make sure he’s really hot,” you chuckled, fixing your hair again in front of the mirror—when Mina suddenly squealed and hugged you from behind.

“Promise I’ll make it up to you! You’re the best!” she grinned, already moving back to the bed to grab her bag.

Mina had booked this trip for you, and you wanted her to enjoy it too. Even though she originally planned it as a girls’ trip, you had spent most of it absorbed in the concert. She had always supported your whims without hesitation...and now it was your turn to support hers.

“Why are you bringing that duffel bag?” you asked, amused at the amount of clothes she was packing.

Mina wiggled her brows. “Gotta be prepared, y’know.”

She walked towards the door, fixing her neckline one last time.

You grinned. “Text me when you’re heading back!”

“Yes, ma’am!” she giggled, throwing you a flying kiss before hurrying out.

The sheer amount of clothes Mina brought made it obvious—she probably wouldn’t be back tonight. You sighed softly, glancing down at your short pink floral dress, your hair tied in a half ponytail.

You still had two days left of the trip, but today was the first time it truly settled in. For the past two days, you had been completely immersed in the concert—no time to walk along the shore, no quiet moments to watch the sunset.

Now, it was finally your time to unwind.

Although you were tempted to doom-scroll edits again, you forced yourself up instead, deciding to follow the planned activity for the day and step outside.

-

“Number 9! Calling for all passengers on Yacht 9!”

You hurried over to the line, double-checking the receipt number Mina had reserved for you.

There were only a few people waiting—some couples and a small group of friends. You didn’t really mind being alone. If anything, you needed this time to unwind, to breathe, to exist without noise pressing in on you.

“Ticket, please!” the man in a white uniform said.

You handed it over, offering a polite smile before stepping onto the yacht.

A few groups had already settled in—holding bottles of champagne, chatting softly, taking pictures against the open sea. You made your way towards the main deck, where a small group of friends sat around a table filled with snacks and laughter.

Based on the crowd, you felt relieved it wasn’t too packed—maybe around twenty-thirty people scattered across the space, enough to feel lively but not overwhelming.

Soft music drifted through the air as the yacht moved gently along the waves. The salt of the sea lingered in every breath you took, calming something in you without you even realizing it needed calming.

You wandered towards a long table filled with food, your short dress and hair swaying slightly with the breeze.

There were different kinds of pastries, a large charcuterie board, bottles of wine and champagne catching the light, stacks of beer lined neatly at one end, and a few bags of chips scattered casually beside them.

Mina had definitely booked a nice yacht. You smiled to yourself, genuinely happy that you could finally relax and enjoy this moment—with good food, fresh air, and a quiet kind of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

You grabbed a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine, scanning the area for a place to sit until you spotted a vacant lounger on the sun deck.

“Perfect!” you mumbled excitedly when you noticed no one else had claimed that area.

Carefully placing your bag, chips, and wine down, you quickly took a photo to update Mina.

“Let’s sit here!”

You were still busy snapping pictures when a small group—maybe four or five people—settled in beside you.

You weren’t really paying attention at first, but in your peripheral vision, you noticed they had brought an impressive amount of snacks with them.

You opened your chips and leaned back on the sun lounger. When you heard the sharp crack of a beer can opening, curiosity tugged at you, and you glanced over briefly.

It was a group of Korean men, older than you—probably in their mid-30s to 40s. Some wore black shades, already laughing as they settled into their drinks, their voices easy and relaxed.

They must be on vacation. This beach was a tourist spot, after all.

You turned your attention back to your chips, letting the sun warm your skin as you sank into the view. The group beside you wasn’t loud—they mostly talked about the scenery and the food, occasionally breaking into laughter over the activities they had tried earlier.

The world felt slow again, almost suspended in that gentle rhythm of waves and wind.

You were busy sipping your wine when you suddenly felt it—an unmistakable stare.

The group beside you was still laughing, their voices blending into the soft noise of the sea, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was looking at you.

These men were older, and for a brief moment, unease crept in.

You sneaked a glance over your shoulder and noticed the broad-built man in sunglasses staring straight ahead—past you.

Does he want potato chips or—

With a slight frown, you followed his line of sight properly this time.

He wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking at your bag on the table.

My bag?

When he realized you were looking back at him, he quickly turned away, though the shift in his posture told you he was still thinking.

Confused, you glanced down at your bag again.

It was just a simple beige tote bag...nothing special and nothing worth staring at.

You shrugged it off. It must’ve been a mistake. Besides, he was wearing sunglasses—maybe he was just spacing out, looking into nothing.

Munching on your chips again, you noticed him typing on his phone, suddenly more focused, as if he had detached himself from the conversation entirely.

You almost laughed to yourself, thinking he might actually be searching something about your bag online.

A strange thought—but harmless.

With a deep, content sigh, you leaned back again, the warmth of the sun and the rhythm of the waves slowly pulling you under.

And somewhere between the breeze and the quiet, you didn’t notice when your eyes finally closed.

By the time you woke up, it was already sunset.

The bottle of wine beside you was empty, and the small group that had been next to you earlier was gone. The sea breeze had turned cooler now—soft and comforting...while the sound of waves blended with the distant chatter of guests still enjoying the evening.

You stretched lightly and sat up.

Some people were still dancing, some chatting, others taking pictures against the fading orange sky. You still had a few hours left before the yacht returned to shore.

Grabbing your leftover chips and the empty bottle of wine, you frowned when something small caught your attention beside your bag.

A paper.

Leaning in slightly, you picked it up—and realized it was a calling card.

Song Hobeom +82 873 489 **** [email protected]

“Who the fuck is this?”

Looking around, you didn’t see the group of Koreans anymore. You assumed the calling card must’ve come from them, especially given the Korean name and number printed on it.

Still… you were confused. Why would he leave his calling card?

Walking slowly along the yacht, you felt a slight dizziness from the wine lingering in your system. You tossed the empty chip bag and bottle aside, your eyes still scanning the space for any sign of the group you had seen earlier. The air had turned colder now, your short dress offering little protection against the breeze brushing against your skin.

Curiosity got the better of you—and maybe the alcohol gave you just enough courage.

You decided to dial the number.

“Yoboseyo?” a deep voice answered.

You swallowed. “Hello? I-Is this Song Hobeom?”

A brief sigh came through the line. “Yes?”

Confusion crept in when he didn’t immediately recognize you as the person from the sun lounger. You hesitated for a moment. Did he really hand out his calling card just like that?

“Uh, I was the one sitting on the sun lounger by the main deck. I think you left your calling card at my table?” you said, biting your lip as nerves slowly settled in.

You had no idea what he wanted—and yet here you were, calling him back.

“Oh, right. Thank you for calling back, ma’am. May I know when you are free? I would like to discuss something with you.” he said in a formal tone.

Huh?

Confusion was written all over your face.

You walked towards the bow of the yacht, trying to escape the soft music and distant chatter, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“Uhm… may I know what for? This is a bit confusing.” You looked around again, but there was still no trace of the group from earlier. They must’ve already left.

“It is a bit confidential, ma’am. But don’t worry, I will give you a short background once we meet.”

You groaned under your breath. “I’m sorry, but can’t you just tell me this over the phone?”

You didn’t want to sound rude, but you didn’t know this man. It was already strange enough that he wanted to meet in person to “discuss something.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we may need to discuss this face-to-face to ensure the call is not being recorded. If you prefer, you may set the time and place.” he said formally.

What the actual fuck.

You rolled your eyes. This was bullshit—it sounded like a scam. Some foreign guy trying to trick people before disappearing back to his country.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Thank you.”

You ended the call immediately.

You weren’t stupid enough to meet a stranger like that. You had only been curious, nothing more—but the moment he refused to explain anything over the phone, something in you clicked.

Suspicion.

And you weren’t taking that chance.

You were about to walk back to the main deck when your phone beeped with a new message. You thought it was Mina, but the moment you recognized the country code, you immediately rolled your eyes.

What does he want?

You instantly regret calling his number. Opening the message, you saw that he had sent a file.

“I swear if this has a virus,” you mumbled.

You were about to tap it when another message came in.

Song Hobeom: The file can only be viewed once. Any form of screenshot or screen recording will be detected and notified. Please contact me again if you wish to proceed after reading the contract.

Song Hobeom: Please do not share this file or inform anyone about this matter. This is strictly confidential. Thank you.

Fucking hell?

You snorted softly, finding his messages almost ridiculous. It sounded like a joke—like he genuinely believed you’d get “in trouble” for forwarding whatever this was.

With a small smirk, you already decided you’d tell Mina about it later. You were definitely not falling for some scam. You’d open it, see whatever nonsense it was, and then block him right after.

With a sheepish grin, you tapped the file anyway… your heart giving a small, restless thump as the screen began to load.

What if it’s a jump scare?

Your brows slowly furrowed when the title finally appeared in bold capital letters:

NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

What?

You quickly scanned the document, reading faster and faster—until your eyes landed on a name that made your heart jolt.

“W-What the actual fuck?!” you gasped in shock. A few people turned to look at you, but you didn’t care. Your attention was completely locked on your phone.

You were starting to hyperventilate. You wanted to close it, to breathe, to think—but it was a view-once file. Your hands trembled as the alcohol from earlier wore off almost instantly, replaced by something sharper.

“This is not real… no freaking way,” you whispered weakly, quickly texting him back with shaking fingers.

No second thoughts—you typed immediately, afraid he might block you or change his mind.

You: I am free tomorrow at around 1 PM. Let’s meet by the coast area near the bar.

Song Hobeom: Noted, ma’am. Thank you for cooperating.

-

You never thought you would find yourself in a situation like this.

You chose a spot with very few people around. It was a nice sunny day, but your face already felt warm—nervous, alert, almost buzzing with anticipation.

Wearing a white floral dress, brown strappy sandals, and sunglasses, you called Mina beforehand and told her you’d be skipping the snorkeling activity for the day. You wanted to tell her the truth, but she didn’t question it when you said you just wanted to swim and relax by the ocean instead.

She told you she wouldn’t be back for tonight, giggling about the cute guy she had met. She kept talking, but your mind was elsewhere the entire time.

Honestly, you were relieved she wouldn’t be back soon. Given the terms written in the file, you needed time alone.

Or this opportunity—whatever it really was—might slip right through your fingers.

“Are you listening to me? You’re like… spacing out, girl!” Mina chuckled.

Your face immediately heated up. “Oh! A-Am I? I was just thinking about buying this merch, and it’s a bit expensive, so I was wondering if I should buy the whole set or just Jungkook’s edition.” you rambled quickly.

Mina laughed, shaking her head. “Just buy it all! Gosh! Anyways, so I went to this island…”

You bit your lip, she believed it.

She continued ranting, and you did your best to follow along, nodding at the right moments, forcing yourself to stay present. You had to hide this—or you’d be screwed.

“Do you want to order, ma’am?”

You looked up at the waiter and nearly froze when, for a split second, you thought it was Song Hobeom standing in front of you.

You were thirty minutes early.

Last night, you hadn’t slept at all...spending hours searching for the man behind the calling card. And what you found had hit you like a truck.

He wasn’t just some random foreign stranger.

He was BTS’s manager.

The weight of the NDA had settled in slowly at first… then all at once.

The same Song Hobeom you had seen on the yacht… was the same man now appearing across articles and videos all over the internet.

“No, thank you. I’ll order later,” you politely declined. You didn’t think you could eat or drink anything at this point.

The waiter nodded and left you alone.

You let out a quiet sigh, glancing at your phone to check the time. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to steady your breathing—you couldn’t afford to panic right now.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

The familiar deep voice made your eyes snap open.

He was finally here.

He approached in a composed, almost professional manner, as if this were a business meeting rather than something that had your entire morning spiraling. Black shirt, gray board shorts and black shades.

Your gaze narrowed slightly when you noticed the large iPad and brown envelope in his hands.

You immediately stood up, quickly straightening your dress before offering your hand.

“G-Good day, uh… h-have a seat, please.” you gestured, waiting until he sat down before you did.

“Have you eaten, Ms…?” he asked, pausing as if waiting for your full name.

“Oh, it’s Y/N L/N. I a-already had lunch,” you stammered, your heart racing as you finally introduced yourself.

He smiled and nodded. “That’s good to hear. I’m Song Hobeom, the manager of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

He opened the brown envelope and showed you its contents. Like a startled kitten, you carefully took the papers.

“Have you read the file I sent you?” he asked casually, while opening his iPad.

You immediately nodded. “Y-Yes, uh… but I only scanned it quickly.”

It was true—you had replied almost instantly because you were scared he might unsend it or take it back.

He nodded. “Alright. Let me explain this to you thoroughly. Before proceeding, we require a Non-Disclosure Agreement to protect the privacy and safety of our artist. This agreement simply means that any information you may see, hear, or experience during your time with us—such as the artist’s location, conversations, or personal details—must remain confidential and cannot be shared with others, posted online, or discussed publicly,” he said in a formal, business-like tone.

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yes, I didn’t tell anyone!” you replied immediately.

He gave another nod, turning the iPad towards you to display the contract details. Then he began walking you through each section, one by one, in calm, structured explanations.

“Ms. Y/N, the NDA does not take away your rights or force you to do anything. It only ensures mutual privacy,” he stated, and you found yourself listening closely, agreeing more than questioning. The moment you had texted back was already a sign—you had chosen to proceed.

“Once signed, the confidentiality rules will remain in effect for the period stated in the document, and breaking the agreement could result in legal consequences.”

“I understand! I-I have researched how NDAs work as well.”

You bit your lip the moment you said it, suddenly realizing how desperate you sounded. You wanted to ask so many questions—why you, of all people, why this situation had landed in your lap—but you were too focused, too eager to get to the part that mattered most now.

Signing that damn contract. That was your priority.

“Good. If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to feel comfortable asking before signing—”

“No questions! I’ll s-sign,” you blurted out, cheeks warming as excitement slipped through your tone.

Mr. Song chuckled lightly and nodded before handing you an expensive-looking pen.

“Alright, please double-check the terms and conditions. Take your time, Ms. Y/N.”

But you didn’t.

Before you even properly reread the contract, you signed it...like your life depended on it. A shy, almost embarrassed smile formed on your lips as you finished.

He looked amused, like this wasn’t his first time seeing this reaction. As if he was already familiar with how quickly people surrendered to these documents.

Then he handed you the iPad for another copy.

Scrolling quickly, you signed again without hesitation.

Your eyes flickered over your own name—and then, for a brief second, your heart stuttered when you saw the name of the artist involved.

Jeon Jungkook.

Mr. Song explained the terms and conditions again. You listened eagerly, a little calmer now that you had finally secured the contract.

“Thank you for signing, Ms. Y/N. Please remember to keep everything discussed and experienced confidential as agreed,” he said with a polite smile, handing you another calling card. “Mr. Jeon will be the one to contact you directly after this for any further coordination.”

You stared at the calling card—Jungkook’s name and number printed on it—your eyes widening in shock.

This cannot be real.

-

“Ugh! I want to cry!”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, now back in your cottage, pacing in front of it like a maniac.

You had one night. One fucking night with him.

The date stated in the contract was after your vacation ended. You were already stressing about what to tell Mina for extending your stay, what to say to your professors, your parents—because you had clearly told them your trip only lasted until next week.

Jungkook hadn’t contacted you yet. It was still too early. You had no idea if he was even on the island already. The only thing you knew was that you were supposed to meet him in Executive Cottage 3 at 8 PM next week.

You still couldn’t believe it.

You had always thought NDAs were just myths—fantasies spun by fans who imagined idols risking everything for a single private encounter.

Sure, you had heard rumors that things like this might actually happen… but you never thought you would experience it yourself—with your own bias, Jeon Jungkook.

It felt unreal. Worse—or better—than a concert. One-on-one and up close.

Your cheeks warmed at the memory of the agreement, your heart picking up speed at the thought. It almost scared you how much you didn’t want to wake up in case this was all just a dream.

Sometimes you found yourself lightly slapping your cheek, as if reality still refused to fully sink in.

For months, you had been depressed over missing the ticket, and now—out of nowhere...you had the opportunity, the privilege, to meet your bias in private.

Now it made sense.

It was their last concert. Their managers were staying here to rest… and for what? To arrange potential NDAs?

Last night, after Mina’s call, you had spent hours deep in research—so deep it felt less like curiosity and more like you were preparing a thesis you somehow needed to defend. You searched everything: how NDAs worked, how participants were chosen, what would happen if you told someone, and a dozen other questions that only made your head spin the longer you read.

There was no hesitation anymore.

The moment you confirmed that Song Hobeom was actually their legitimate manager, something in you fully locked in. Any lingering doubt that the contract might be fake...or some elaborate prank—disappeared instantly.

It was real, and you had already signed it.

Your excitement had gone through the roof.

Even though you wanted to tell Mina so badly, your eagerness to meet Jungkook was far stronger. You couldn’t risk it.

“Huh? Why?” Mina questioned when she returned the next day and you immediately told her about extending your stay.

“I just want to relax more, you know… I didn’t realize the sea was this calming,” you smiled, trying to sound convincing.

You and Mina were now getting ready for the snorkeling activity. After dinner, you had decided you would break the news properly.

“Are you lying to me?” Mina raised a brow.

You went pale. “N-No, I j-just really wanted to sta—”

“You met a cute guy, didn’t you?” Mina accused, squinting at you.

You blinked, caught completely off guard by her conclusion. She knew you weren’t the type to extend a trip like this—especially with school starting next week—unless, of course, it was for BTS.

Or a cute guy.

“W-Well…”

Mina giggled. “Ha! That’s why we’re besties!”

Maybe a little white lie wasn’t so bad.

Mina told you she couldn’t extend her stay anyway since she had a presentation due next week. Even though she wanted to stay longer, you reassured her you’d be fine—and that you just wanted some alone time with your “cute guy.”

Yeah...cute guy.

-

The following days felt like a whirlwind. You enjoyed your last activities with Mina, all while quietly trying to keep it together every time the agreement flashed back into your mind and sent your thoughts spiraling.

When the last day came, you practically rushed Mina into the van just to get a proper goodbye out before she left.

Tomorrow was finally the day.

And yet, Jungkook still hadn’t contacted you.

The day before, you had already gone through a medical examination—another requirement of the NDA. You were honestly surprised at how professional it all was, how organized everything felt despite how unreal the situation still seemed in your head.

It was almost ridiculous how seriously you had started taking everything.

You shaved your entire body. Scrubbed yourself religiously every night. Applied lotion more than usual. Even started doing small morning workouts after meals, as if preparation alone could somehow calm your nerves.

“Hi, Jungkookie!” you practiced in front of the mirror, batting your eyelashes.

“Fuck! Why did I do that?” you immediately cringed, shaking your head.

You tried again, this time forcing a different tone.

“So… how was the concert?”

“I’m honored to be chosen.”

“Do I just lay here?”

“I love you. You’re my everything.”

You groaned and covered your face completely.

You had no idea what to expect. The thought of meeting Jungkook was overwhelming in every possible way—like your brain couldn’t decide whether to freeze, panic, or completely shut down.

And honestly, you were starting to worry you might faint… or embarrass yourself beyond recovery the moment it actually happened.

The contract stated “private meeting,” and you weren’t exactly Sherlock, so it wasn’t hard to conclude that it involves fucking. Especially considering they required a medical examination—surely not for a simple chat.

You almost screamed when your phone beeped with a message.

Jungkook: Hi Y/N, see you tomorrow at 8!

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” you jumped onto your bed, staring at the text like it wasn’t real.

His message was so casual, completely different from the formal, business-like tone Song Hobeom used. It almost made it feel even more surreal.

“What should I reply… oh my gosh.”

You bit your lip, carefully choosing your words so you wouldn’t mess anything up.

You: See you, Kookie!

-

The cottage was larger than yours...an executive unit reserved for upper-class guests—with soft ambient lighting, a private veranda, a small plunge pool, a carefully kept garden, a few hammocks swaying gently in the breeze, and direct access to the beach.

This area felt different, tucked away from the other cottages scattered across the busy island.

You had expected to be guided by bodyguards, but there was no one. No visible security, no presence at all. It felt intentional—like the meeting was meant to be so private that even protection would disrupt it.

Wearing a lilac wrap dress, white glittery doll shoes, and your hair curled neatly at the ends, you slowly made your way towards the cottage.

Your fingers hesitated before pressing the keycard Mr. Song had given you last week. The soft beep that followed made your nerves spike instantly—a quiet confirmation that you had arrived, and that you were allowed inside.

Once the door opened, you stepped in.

You were immediately met with a spacious bedroom featuring a king-sized bed, a lounge area, a large wooden door that likely led to the bathroom, and wide tinted windows with sliding doors that opened directly to a full view of the sea.

You stood there for a moment, taking it all in with wide eyes.

Carefully, you placed your bag beside the bed and began walking around the space, your curiosity slowly building. On the table, you noticed a selection of pastries and a neatly arranged meal set waiting, untouched.

“Hey.”

You gasped, your eyes snapping towards the bathroom door as the man you only saw on screens stepped out.

Jungkook wore nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp, droplets of water trailing down his neck and collarbones as he ran a smaller towel through his hair.

Your lips parted slightly. Fuck.

He walked toward the coffee table first, casually lifting the silver cloche to check the prepared dinner as if nothing about this moment carried any weight at all.

But for you, everything had just short-circuited.

Jungkook—right there in front of you...breathing the same fucking air.

You had seen him countless times on screens, in edited clips and fan videos—but none of that had prepared you for this. In person, his presence felt heavier, more grounded. His frame looked broader, more defined. The tattoos you had only ever glimpsed before were now fully visible under the soft lighting, detailed and striking in a way that made your thoughts scatter instantly.

Even his voice—when he spoke...carried a calm, effortless depth that made your mind go blank before it could catch up.

All the lines you had practiced disappeared completely.

You were speechless.

You couldn’t believe he was real.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, turning towards you while still holding the cloche.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. You stood near the couch like you’d been rooted in place, completely caught off guard.

A quiet chuckle left him as he noticed your reaction. He set the lid back down and began walking towards you.

Your breath hitched when he closed the distance. His fresh scent—clean, minty, just out of the shower—wrapped around you, sharpening your senses in an instant.

“Relax,” Jungkook said softly, his tone calm and steady as he gently placed a hand on your arm.

Warmth spread through your skin immediately, like your body had finally registered his presence all at once.

You nodded too quickly, blinking as if that could reset your brain. Your heart was pounding so hard you were convinced it had to be audible.

Jungkook smiled slightly, looking down at you. “Hmm, look at me.” he said when you kept avoiding eye contact.

You tried—but the moment your eyes lifted, you almost froze again.

Dark doe eyes met yours, steady and unreadable, holding you in place. His right hand lifted your chin just as you instinctively tried to look away again.

“Sit down on the couch for me, mhm?” he said gently, guiding you down with an easy, controlled calm.

You were so nervous, looking up at him like a shy deer. All the conversations you had prepared were completely forgotten—you were mentally blocked.

Jungkook tilted his head at you, still standing as he looked down at your form. “You okay, pretty girl?”

Your cheeks turned crimson at the compliment, and you nodded again like you had lost your voice.

Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to get to your eye level. “Talk to me, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“H-Hi,” you said in a small voice, almost choking on the words.

“Hmm, louder.” Jungkook whispered, raising a brow at you.

You gulped harshly, squeezing your own hands in nervousness. “H-Hi, Jungkook. Nice to meet you.” you said, a little clearer this time.

Jungkook smiled, sitting beside you. “There you go. Good job, baby.” he praised. “So polite.”

You smiled back shyly, your breath hitching when he took your hands—hands you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing so tightly.

“Baby, you’ll hurt yourself doing that…” he said gently, holding your hands and lightly tracing over the faint marks you had left on your skin.

“O-Oh, uhm…”

“Do you want to eat first? What do you want to do?” he asked softly, studying your nervous expression.

He was so calm, so composed, so sweet—it made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You bit your lip under his attention, suddenly hyper-aware of every small movement you made.

His gaze briefly dropped to your lips. He swallowed subtly, something shifting in his expression for just a moment before he looked back up at you again.

“W-Whatever y-you want to do…”

Jungkook raised a brow at you, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes…”

Jungkook straightened up, his gaze briefly dropping over your short dress, lingering for a moment before he looked back at the table.

“There’s a bunch of pastries you might want to try. Do you like sweets?” he said softly, opening the glass lids of the desserts in front of you.

You smiled shyly, eyes shifting towards the neatly arranged food. “Yes, I like c-cookies.”

Jungkook smiled, reaching for the tray of cookies with different flavors—chocolate chip, walnut, matcha, red velvet, and more you couldn’t even name at a glance.

You kept your eyes fixed on the cookies, forcing yourself not to look at him, especially with how near he was.

“I’ve tried walnut and matcha,” he said, pointing at a few of them.

You pouted and picked the flavor he suggested. He smiled when you chose the matcha, carefully placing the tray back down on the table.

“Do you want milk?” he asked, pointing at the bottle beside the pastries.

You nodded, taking a small bite while he poured a glass for you.

“Thank you…” you said with a shy smile.

He smiled back and stood up to get dressed while you focused on eating the cookies. When he came back, he was wearing a white shirt and black comfy shorts. He sat beside you and took a cookie for himself as well.

Jungkook was patient, sweet, and gentle with you. He occasionally asked about your hobbies, your likes, your favorite food, and small details that only your parents and Mina usually knew.

With a soft, hesitant voice, you slowly opened up—talking about how you became a BTS fan, how long you had followed them, and how much you liked him.

He listened closely, never interrupting, only asking follow-up questions like he was genuinely interested.

His eyes followed your lips whenever you spoke, then shifted to your eyes whenever you looked away. And every time your voice got smaller, he leaned in slightly, as if trying not to miss a single word—especially when you talked about him.

Neither of you mentioned the NDA.

It felt, strangely, like you were simply there to spend time with him.

You honestly thought he wouldn’t talk much, given how shy you were—but Jungkook was unexpectedly patient, giving you space to settle in and feel comfortable around him.

But then

You were giggling about his travel story with Jimin when you noticed his tattooed hands slowly settling around your waist.

“A-And what did he do?” you asked, a little startled.

Jungkook had been talking about some of their personal trips with the members. You were surprised by how open he was with you—the way he spoke during his Weverse lives was exactly the same in person: charming, funny, and easy to talk to.

You hadn’t expected him to answer your small, silly questions, but he was attentive, responding to everything like you had known each other for years. You felt, strangely, at ease.

He pouted slightly, suddenly distracted by the lace ruffles at the hem of your dress, his fingers lightly brushing and playing with them.

“Used all his perfume to spray it on the huge bug.” he chuckled lowly, his eyes still lowered towards your dress.

You giggled, imagining the chaos. “Did the bug get killed?”

Jungkook slowly looked at you, his eyes a little heavy-lidded, his hands still idly playing with the hem of your dress.

“Hmm, no.” he rasped.

Your eyes widened when he pulled you closer, his left arm circling your waist to steady you. His right tattooed hand lifted both your legs across his lap.

“You smell good.” he murmured closely, fingers now toying with the ribbons of your wrap dress.

You gulped harshly, your hands resting awkwardly on his arm for balance. Up close, he could see the details of your makeup—light glitter dusted across your cheeks and eyelids, pink gloss on your lips, a soft blush deepening from warmth, and lashes curled with a hint of mascara.

He lifted a loose strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear, then let his fingers trail lightly along your cheek.

“You dolled up for me?” he said lightly, tilting his head.

His tone had shifted—less careful now, more playful… almost teasing.

“Y-Yes… do you like it?” you asked shyly. It had taken you hours to finish your makeup, hours to pick a dress and style your hair. You were almost embarrassed when you saw that he looked so fresh and handsome after the shower, while you had taken an eternity to get ready.

Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek. He held your face with one hand, almost squishing both of your cheeks. His touch was gentle, but the way he tilted your head to examine your face made you feel weird.

Made you feel wet.

“I do,” he said lowly. “I like the glitters.”

You smiled, a bit more confident now. “Really?” you said happily, leaning a little closer to him. “Matches my doll shoes right?” You moved your toes up and down.

Jungkook nodded, his lazy eyes staring at you, then down at your dress. His hands traced slow circles on your bare thighs, making you tingly.

“I noticed something though…”

“Hmm, what?” you tilted your head curiously.

He pouted. “Your dress has no glitters, babygirl.” He slightly held the end of your dress, as if examining the texture.

You pouted. “Yeah…” You looked down. “B-But—”

Your thoughts were interrupted when he softly kissed your cheek.

“Hmm…” He slowly held the ribbons of your dress, and with one hand, he untied the knot.

“W-Wait—” you gasped, eyes widening when you saw what he was doing.

“It has no glitters, baby… doesn't match your pretty little shoes and makeup." he said in a mocking tone, removing your dress from your shoulders.

“Jungkook…” you said softly, cheeks growing hot under his gaze.

Licking his lower lip, his gaze dropped to your body.

The soft swell of your breasts was hugged perfectly by the white bra you were wearing, matching the delicate fabric of your panties. The small white ribbon resting between your breasts and the top of your underwear caught his attention—something so simple, yet enough to make his cock tighten.

You looked… soft, so pretty, too cute. Ready to be ruined by him.

His hands slowly moved to the straps of your bra “Oh baby…” he said in a cooing tone. “This doesn’t have glitters as well.” He said it like it was a problem. His fingers hooked onto the straps before pulling them away from your skin—only to let them snap back in place, the sting blooming lightly against you.

You were speechless. The way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, the way he played with you—it made your body heat up, a quiet rush of warmth settling low in your stomach.

Your instinct was to cover yourself, but the way he raised a brow at you made you hesitate, a shiver running through you instead. You blinked slowly, caught between nerves and awareness you couldn’t quite name.

“Jungkook, t-this is embarrassing.” you said in a small voice.

You thought you could be confident—years of reading fanfictions had convinced you of that. You were certain you could fuck him better, that you could show him what you were capable of. Make him feel good. Please him. Make him happy.

You had been so sure of yourself...so full of it, even—thinking you could give him the best night of his life.

But the moment he touched you, your mind went completely blank. All rational thoughts slipped away, leaving you flustered and unsure of yourself, shrinking back into a shy, overwhelmed version of you.

Jungkook chuckled sarcastically. You gasped when he suddenly pulled your hair, his lips reaching under your ear to whisper.

“You signed up for this, didn’t you?” he rasped, his lips grazing your earlobe.

You squealed, his dominance eating you alive. His sweet, teasing tone was gone; the way he pulled your hair closer made you shiver.

“Y-Yes,” you bit your lip. You felt his lips move down your neck, his hot breath tickling you.

“Hmm… do you want me to elaborate on what we’re doing here?” he said in a tone like he was talking to a child. You gasped when he slightly bit your neck.

“Sorry, I was j-just—”

He removed your bra quickly, tossing it somewhere before his fingers grazed near the swell of your breast, teasing you.

“Use your pretty little brain, baby, come on…” he said harshly, suddenly pinching your nipples, making you whimper.

Jungkook raised his head to look at you, his pupils dilated. The way he swallowed harshly when he saw your round breast and pink nipples made him leak.

“Do you know…” he whispered under your ear. “How bad…” He slightly slapped your nipple, soothing it afterward by rolling it gently between his fingers. “I wanted to fuck you?”

“J-Jungkook-”

“Look at you… you’ll let me do whatever I want, right?”

You shut your eyes tightly…followed by a slow nod, stunned by his words and actions.

He raised a brow, eyes dropping to your nipples. Your vision almost slipped when he suddenly spat on them, using his fingers to spread it over your breast.

“Yeah? You’ll let me use you?” he said in a low voice, his hands now trailing down the garters of your underwear. “Like a pretty little, sparkly slut that your are.’’

You knew what he wanted...it had been clear from the very beginning. It had already been hours, and you were still shy and hesitant. You wanted this too, but you were scared to make the first move, scared to say or do something that might turn him off.

He, on the other hand, had been patient from the start—letting you settle in, letting you eat, letting you relax, asking you what you wanted, giving you time without rushing you.

You didn’t realize the way his eyes darkened the moment you entered his room—the way they wandered down the valley of your breasts, the way they roamed over your dress that hugged your curves— showing the swell of your hips, the way his gaze followed the pout of your lips. The way your cute little glitters and doll shoes made you look like a proper little slut for him to use.

It’s been more than a year.

Jungkook had been busy with tour, with the group’s latest comeback. He had been working endlessly—promoting their new songs, filming content for a variety of brands, updating his Instagram and TikTok daily for ARMYs, practicing nonstop to show his best on tour. His schedule had been packed for over a year since their comeback.

Now that the tour had finally come to an end, it was his time to relax and unwind.

Jungkook’s stamina was unreal. Despite his busy schedule, there were times he would ask his manager to arrange private, strictly confidential meetings through NDAs.

Unfortunately, their latest tour had been much bigger, making it harder for his manager to coordinate anything outside of his packed schedule. Because of that, for the past months, Jungkook had been letting all of his sexual frustrations by himself.

It started in 2017. At first, he was the one personally choosing and approving everything himself, but after a few years—once his fame and schedule became even more intense—his manager took over the process. It became less personal and more structured, handled carefully behind the scenes.

With his level of fame, everything had to be treated with strict confidentiality and formal documentation.

For years, all the NDAs Jungkook had been involved with stayed quiet—carefully kept private, out of fear of the consequences, but also lingering with the hope of another night with him.

He was a man, after all. With his busy schedule and global fame, there was no room for commitment or long-term relationships. Everything in his life moved too fast, too publicly, too tightly controlled.

Because of that, he relied on brief, private arrangements...carefully managed and kept out of the public eye—to relieve stress and maintain some sense of personal balance amid his packed schedule.

It was almost like something carefully curated over time. He didn’t have a specific type, but his manager knew him well enough to anticipate what he was comfortable with. Over the years, everything had become more structured—quiet introductions, formal agreements, and strict confidentiality before anything could proceed.

After the tour, Jungkook had been particularly insistent on arranging an NDA soon. The long schedule and constant pressure had built up, and he needed a way to release the pent up sexual frustration.

When the team decided to extend their stay in the country after the final stop, his manager quietly began looking into possible private, strictly confidential arrangements handled under NDAs.

It wasn’t urgent—more of a routine precaution when they had extended time in one location. In most cases, it was beneficial if the person involved was already an ARMY, since familiarity with boundaries and expectations made things easier. Over time, most of the people who signed were fans in one way or another, while others were simply individuals who happened to be in the right place at the right time and agreed to the confidentiality terms.

Jungkook himself rarely interfered with the process. He trusted his manager to handle the details, especially during tours and rare breaks when privacy mattered more than anything else. The goal was simple: rest, recovery, and avoiding unnecessary exposure.

That was why his manager moved discreetly when he saw you—subtly noting your presence, your behavior, and your isolation from the crowd before eventually placing a small calling card on your table.

When Jungkook saw you standing in front of him, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, all his rational thoughts slipped away for a moment. You looked so sweet, ready to be used.

Jungkook was unbearably horny.

He wasn’t the type to extend another night, even with a potential NDA—but he was the type who wouldn’t stop fucking you once you stepped into his space. The kind who fucked hard. The kind who took control and dominated you without hesitation. The kind who would leave marks—bruises that lingered long after the night ended. Whether you were the shy type or the bold type, you would fold once he touches you, once he pulls your hair and manoeuvres your body to his own liking.

He’s mean when he fucks, praising you in a degrading way… though he would always start off sweet, to ease the tension, with his usual kind self and bunny smiles.

But, afterwards?

He would fuck you like a dirty whore, play with you like a little toy, use you like a cum dump.

When he noticed how hesitant and vulnerable you were, he took the lead by making sure you were comfortable at first. But his patience was running thin. Your sweet scent engulfed his senses—your soft voice and small giggles, your shy smile and twinkling eyes—it all made his cock twitch.

It had been months—too long without a proper release. At first, he wanted to take his sweet time with you, but your hesitance and shy demeanor were driving him crazy. Jungkook wanted to bend you over and fuck your unused holes, wanted to wrap his hands around your neck, wanted to fuck your pretty mouth until you were gagging and crying for him, wanted to feel your warm pussy wrapped around him until he could no longer think straight.

He forcefully ripped your underwear, leaving red marks on your thighs. Your body was now fully exposed to him.

“Pretty girl,” he mused, when his gaze dropped at your pussy, you instinctively closed your legs.

He gripped your thighs, forcing them open so he could look at your cunt. “Pretty little pussy.” he whispered, staring at your cunt with a faint shine visible from your wetness. “Acting so shy yet your pussy is soaking.”

“Jungkook, p-please…” you pleaded, slightly moving your legs.

“Aww, a few moments ago you wouldn’t let me see you. Now you’re pleading, hmm?” he cooed.

Your breath hitched when his index finger traced the slit of your cunt, gathering your juices.

“Oh, t-that’s—” you whimpered. 

You were long gone.

He was making you so wet and turned on. Not that you weren’t already—your shyness was already getting the best of you—but the moment he took the lead, whatever composure you had left began to slip away. Your thoughts scattered, your attention narrowing to him alone, your body reacting in a way that made you feel both overwhelmed and helplessly aware of him.

Your eyes widened when he licked the finger that had gathered your wetness, staring at you while his tongue rolled over it.

“Hmm, you taste so good.” his finger, now wet with saliva, went back down your cunt to gather your juices again, bringing it to his mouth to taste it once more.

“Do you taste yourself?” 

“N-No, I haven’t,” you admitted shyly.

He placed his wet finger on your lip. “Open,” he said sharply, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

You slowly opened your mouth, his finger immediately sliding in so you could taste yourself. 

“That’s it… twirl your tongue, baby.” You obediently twirled your tongue around his finger, your saliva dripping down his hand messily. His cock twitched at the sight, he pulled his finger from your mouth with a soft pop.

“Get on the bed and spread your legs.” slapping your thigh lightly to urge you up.

You were almost dizzy, his words barely registering in your mind… you stood up, almost stumbling, but Jungkook caught your waist firmly.

“Careful, baby.” he chuckled lowly, your cheeks heating up in response.

Your legs felt weak as you made your way to the bed, Jungkook following behind. When you bent down to remove your doll shoes, he held your arm to stop you.

“Leave them.”

“O-Okay,” your brows furrowed, slowly sitting on the bed with your doll shoes still on.

Jungkook raised a brow at you. “Raise your legs on the bed.”

“But my shoes…” you pouted.

Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to level with your face. “It has glitters, baby. No need to remove it.”

You blinked slowly, the realization settling in as you recalled his earlier comment about your dress and undergarments not having any glitter details.

Raising your feet, you let your doll shoes rest on the mattress. Your legs were folded as you adjusted yourself, your wet cunt fully exposed under his gaze.

Jungkook’s hand moved absently over his shorts as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his attention fixed on your wet pussy. “Spread wider, baby. Hold your ankles for me.”

You spread your legs wider, holding your ankles, making yourself open for him. Your juices leaked down onto the mattress, giving him a clear view. Your cheeks and neck turned red from what you were doing for him.

“That’s it, wider.” he groaned, removing his shirt and shorts in one go. Your arms almost gave out when you saw him naked in front of you.

He was so huge—his cock red and veiny, precum leaking from the tip, his hand gripping himself, rolling the foreskin, pumping more wetness onto his mushroom head.

Jungkook moved closer, looking down at your cunt while palming himself shamelessly. “Do you like how I touch my cock?’’

You whimpered when his other hand went down to you, his middle finger sliding into your hole easily. The wet squelching sound filled the room.

“Slut,” he whispered. 

Using your wetness, he spread it around his cock like lubricant, mixing it with his precum. “You’re so wet baby, my good little whore.”

You whined, your arms growing tired from the position. When you tried to let go of your ankles, Jungkook slapped your pussy.

“Keep them open,” he said harshly, squeezing his cock tighter, releasing more precum at the tip. 

“Let me see your pretty holes, yeah?” His cheeks hollowed as he gathered saliva and spat onto your exposed cunt, letting it drip inside your wanting hole.

“Jungkook, p-please… I can’t anymore,” you whined, your body clenching around nothing. You wanted him to touch you.

“Shh, be a good doll and stay still, yeah?” he groaned, spitting down on his cock, spreading it along his shaft as he pumped faster while looking at you.

It was so overwhelming—the way he looked at you while touching himself made you so wet.

“P-Please, t-touch me.” you pleaded, your eyes glossy with need, whining when you felt more of your juices spill onto the bed.

Jungkook groaned, “Be a good fucking slut and watch me touch my cock.”

It was obscenely dirty—watching him touch his cock so fast, his gaze locked on your pussy. Every now and then, he’d gather your slick with his fingers, spreading it along his length, making himself even wetter, even more desperate.

And just when it looked like he was about to cum—he stopped.

His hand tightened around the tip, squeezing just enough to hold himself back, dragging the moment out, edging himself with a restraint that only made it worse.

“Fuck!” he quickly kneeled down in front of you, his face now very close to your pussy. When you looked down, your eyes fluttered when you saw him staring closely at your twitching hole.

“You look so tight,” he groaned, his finger tracing your cunt lightly.

“Koo…” you moaned, already shaking from the contact.

He kissed your inner thigh, occasionally biting the soft skin to leave marks. When you were already getting too whiny, he leaned in closer, his tongue pushing inside you.

“Oh, Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, the feeling of his hot tongue inside your hole making you quiver. He was pushing his tongue so deep, like he wanted to collect all your juices.

“Mhm,” he moaned, the vibration giving soft pulses down your clit. He collected all your juices, sucking them as much as possible, going deeper and deeper just to spit it right back up on your swollen clit.

“Oh my gosh—” you whimpered. He was making you as messy as possible. When he wrapped his lips around your clit to suck, you almost saw stars from the pleasure, the sensation pulsating through your whole body making you roll your eyes back.

“You like that?” he murmured while sucking your clit, his tatted finger going inside your hole, releasing more juices from you.

You nodded almost instantly, holding your ankle tighter. When he nipped harshly on your clit, you almost dropped your legs, shaking from how good his lips and tongue felt. He looked up at you, still sucking your clit while inserting another finger inside you, instantly brushing your sensitive spot.

The way his middle and ring finger brushed your g-spot made your clit pulse. With the pressure of his lips around your clit, you were close to cumming.

“Jungkook, I-I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead baby, wanna eat your cum,” he whispered against your cunt, sucking harder, his fingers moving aggressively inside you.

You were shaking. When you felt your high building, you almost pushed him away, letting go of your ankles to grip his hair.

“Jungkook! S-Stop,” you pleaded weakly. The pleasure was too much, too intense. His pace did not falter, his hand pressing your lower stomach down.

When he removed his fingers, you thought he was done, but he immediately rubbed your clit in circles, spitting down on your hood while holding your wriggling body in place.

You moaned loudly… his fingers, his mouth, his spit—all of it pushed you over the edge. You came so hard you almost fainted. 

He still didn’t stop- you were overstimulated, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you, drawing more release out of you. The pressure of his fingers dragged you into another climax, making you squirt messily around him, splashing his face, his neck, his body.

“S-stop, please Koo…” you cried, shaking uncontrollably as you squirted again. His fingers still didn’t stop. His dark eyes stayed fixed on your swollen pussy, amusement etched across his face.

“Messy girl, good job baby.” he cooed, giving your pussy a light slap to coax out the remaining slick.

Your cheeks were wet with tears, your body weak from orgasm. He leaned down, holding your cheeks gently to make you look at him.

“Poor baby, let me wipe your tears, hmm?”

He leaned down, licking your tears slowly, his hot tongue dragging wetly across your cheeks.

You whimpered, your body barely holding itself together. His lips moved down to your nipple, sucking the hard bud softly, while his other hand caressed your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipples.

His throbbing cock grinds against your spent pussy, his swollen tip smearing messily against your slit, spreading his precum all over your cunt.

“Koo…” you said softly, still tired and hazy from your release.

His mouth moved to your other nipple, his teeth tugging slightly, making you gasp. You were certain you would have bruises—the way he sucked your nipple mirrored how he had sucked your clit, lingering just enough to draw a reaction, coating it in spit before taking it fully into his mouth.

“Baby, can you feel how hard I am for you?” he whispered, his cock grinding slowly against your wet pussy, his tip brushing your clit… making you wetter again. “Do you know how long I wanted to fuck a nice warm pussy?” He grabbed your neck, your lips parting instinctively. He took the chance to spit into your mouth, leaning down to slip his tongue in messily, swallowing your moans and protests. His grip tightened each time you whimpered.

“Been touching my hard cock for months baby,” His movements were slow, deliberate—drawing arousal back into your body. “Need your tight pussy so bad.” The way he rolled his hips against you, the way he silenced you with his tongue so no protests could leave your mouth.

“You wanted this?” he groaned against your lips, releasing your neck only to squeeze your breast harshly.

“Ouch, Koo—”

“Answer me,” he said sharply, tapping your right cheek.

“I w-want this,” you said with glossy eyes, small hands gripping his arm tightly.

He tilted his head at you. “Yeah? You wanted to be fucked like a slut don’t you?” he taunted, sitting up to squeeze his cock, teasing himself by twirling his index finger over his tip. “Are you a slut? hmm?”

You nodded weakly. “Would do anything for y-you.’’ you said shyly.

Jungkook raised a brow, standing up at the edge of the bed. “Come here then, crawl to me.”

It was degrading, the way he treats you like a slut for him to use… yet it makes you wetter, makes you hornier. You crawl towards him like a good whore, looking up at him with pleading, sparkly eyes. Your makeup is ruined, your hair disheveled, your doll shoes still intact, making you look like a ruined sex doll.

“Good girl, now wrap your hands around my cock.” he rasped, holding the base out for you. When your small, shaky hands felt his veiny shaft, you almost came again. It twitched in your grip, hard and flushed red at the tip.

He groaned. “Spit on it, baby. Make it nice and wet for me.”

You spat on his cock, spreading it around the base before moving your hands up and down, rolling the foreskin as you worked him. He moaned loudly, head tipping back, jaw clenched, sweat forming across the expanse of his chest.

“That’s it, what a good little whore.” he praised, caressing your hair.

You tried your best to make him feel good. You raised your other hand, spitting into your palm and spreading it together with his precum.

Jungkook groaned at the sight. Using both of your hands, you made a twisting motion along his length, looking up at him like a good girl.

“I w-want you,” you said with a bit of confidence.

Jungkook cursed under his breath. “Suck my cock.” He slapped your hands away, then pulled your hair, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth. His breath hitched when he felt you gag around him, your nose pressed against his pelvis, your eyes turning watery.

“Take it,” he groaned harshly, guiding your head up and down like you were his personal fleshlight. You tried your best to take him, even though he was so big in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

It was sloppy and nasty. Your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock, tracing the mushroom tip while you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard. Spit and precum was leaking down your chin, your eyes glossy and red, the way you twirled your tongue to trace the veins of his cock made him groan.

“Hands behind your back,” he panted.

You immediately did what he said, your body fully under his control. When he pushed deeper, your face pressed against his pubic hair. You choked, saliva and precum bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you want to tap his leg, the air in your lungs limited.

“You look so pretty with my cock- fuck! I’m gonna cum.” he grunted, keeping you close until you felt the liquid heat spreading inside your throat. He forced you to swallow, keeping your face snug against his pelvis so not a single drop would spill.

When he released your head, you almost collapsed onto the bed. Your eyes were red, your mouth slightly bruised, and your neck ached from the way he had angled your face. Due to exhaustion, you let him maneuver your body, pushing you down and flipping you over.

“Bend over, baby. I’m not done using you.”

He was still hard, giving his cock a few more pumps before guiding it towards your pussy.

“Open your pussy, baby. Be a useful slut and spread yourself for me.”

With weak hands, you reached back to spread yourself for him, opening your folds. Your wetness leaked down your inner thighs.

“Look at you. You just came, yet your pussy already wants more… dripping all over my sheets like a whore.” he said mockingly.

You whimpered. “P-please, f-fuck me.” You were almost crying, your arms tired and your body aching from the position, but you wanted to please him so badly, wanted him to use you till you could no longer take it anymore.

Jungkook chuckled behind you. You thought he would tease you again, but you gasped when he suddenly pushed his cock inside you. Despite your earlier orgasm, the stretch was still painful, making you scream into the sheets.

“You’re so tight, fuck.” he groaned, looking down at his cock getting swallowed by your tight pussy.

He leaned down, pressing your head down further, his cock pushing deeper and deeper, making you squirm in both pleasure and pain.

“Fucking slut, so tight around daddy.” he whispered, your face buried in the sheets.

You clenched around him, whining against the mattress.

“Oh, you like that?” he taunted, pushing deeper until he reached your g-spot.

You could feel every drag of his cock inside you—his veins, his mushroom tip. The stretch was so good you were close to cumming, clenching around him as he fucked you deeper.

“Stop that, baby, I’m gonna cum.” he almost laughed, pulling your hair up so he could see your face. “Want to fuck you for hours, baby. I’m gonna use your tiny hole till daddy can’t release cum anymore. Do you want that?”

You whimpered, “Yes, d-daddy.”

He groaned harshly; the way you called him made him even hornier. He pulled out and shifted down on his side, pulling your body snug against his chest, your back pressed against him. “Keep your legs up,” he whispered, holding his cock and directing it against your leaking hole.

You didn’t expect to be fucked by Jungkook sideways. He held your waist while driving his hard cock into you, your legs spread wide in the air as his lips nipped harshly at your neck.

“Feels so g-good, daddy.” you moaned, your body bouncing slightly from the force of the way he was fucking you.

Jungkook bit your neck, his hands moving down to rub your clit. “Uhuh, daddy’s gonna fill you with so much cum and you’re gonna hold it like a good girl.’’

You moaned, trying to bite your moans back, but Jungkook slapped your clit harshly. “Moan louder,” he groaned, his balls hitting your ass as he pushes his cock all the way out just to push it harder all the way in.

“J-Jungkook.” you moaned, eyes rolling back.

“Louder.”

“Jungkook!” you moaned louder.

“Good girl,” he chuckled behind you, his fingers coming back down to rub your clit again.

You could feel your cum dripping down your thighs, the loud squelching sound of his cock fucking into your pussy and his deep groans pushing you to the edge. When he gave your clit a good rub, you came all over his cock, your pussy clenching around his girth, releasing so much cum. You held his wrist to stop him, your thighs shaking—you were certain you almost drooled from the deep pulses your cunt was producing.

Jungkook groaned behind you. You gasped weakly when he removed himself inside your twitching pussy, your cum leaking onto the mattress, but he immediately lowered his head to catch your cum, wasting no drop.

“I c-cant, too much!” you cried.

Jungkook held your thighs firmly, slurping all your juices like a starved man. When he raised his head, his chin and nose were wet from your arousal. Using both his index fingers, he opened your hood, exposing your puffy clit. He leaned down to suck it, and you gasped when you felt your cum and his warm saliva spreading.

“Oh daddy,” you moaned, another wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

He looked up at you, his tongue giving kitten licks on your clit. “Are you daddy’s good girl?” he murmured against it, his thumb circling the bud, the dual sensation making you lose your mind. “Do you like how daddy eats your pussy?”

“Yes daddy, it f-feels nice.”

“Nice?” Jungkook chuckled, sucking his thumb before rubbing his spit all over your clit. “Is this nice?” he mocked, looking at your bud as it looked so swollen and pink.

“Describe nice for me,” he growled before standing up, carrying you with him. Your thighs wrapped around his waist as he walked beside the large mirror. Using both of his hands, he held your ass and pushed his cock inside your used hole, using almost no strength to lift your body just to push you up and down around his hard cock.

You could see your reflection in the mirror—the way he used your body to pleasure himself, the way his biceps flexed every time he pushed and pulled you against him. He carried you like a feather, your body like a used, fucked-up sex doll.

“Is this… nice?” he mocked you, his lips parted as he looked at your pleasured face. He could feel your juices dripping down his muscular thighs. He chuckled at you. “Too dumb to answer, baby? Is my cock making you feel so good?”

You squealed, gripping his arms tightly as your body bounced up and down. He was going so fast, his hips snapping against you, pushing up while forcing you down, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Gonna cum, baby. Would you hold my cum inside like what I taught you?” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his eyes hazy.

“Y-Yes daddy.” 

Jungkook groaned, his hands gripping your ass hard, enough that it hurt. His cock drilled in so deep that you whimpered when he pulled your body close, forcing you down as he spilled all of his warm cum inside you. He groaned beside your ear, biting your neck through his intense orgasm, balls deep and snug against your ass. Your legs were shaking...you felt so full. You tried to move, but his grip was too strong. You could feel all of his cum filling your pussy, and it was so much that you could feel some of it dripping down your legs.

You thought he was done when he removed his cock inside you. Your legs wobbled as he quickly set you down on the bed, his hands palming your pussy as if to keep his cum inside you. Your eyes almost went out of their sockets when you saw that he was still hard.

“Raise your legs,” he rasped, gripping his cock from the base as he spread the cum that was left on his girth.

When you weakly raised your legs, he could see how much cum was inside your pussy, threatening to spill out.

“Touch yourself, push my cum deeper,” he said with serious eyes while staring at your hole.

Your eyes widened. “J-Jungkook, t-thats-”

‘’Come on baby, daddy’s waiting.” 

You gulped harshly. He was slowly rubbing his swollen cock, teasing the tip while waiting for you to move. Your small hand slowly reached down to your hole, pushing his cum deeper, but some of it spilled onto the bed. You tried your best to push it in further, but your past orgasm was still overstimulating you.

“Like this, d-daddy?’’ you said shyly.

Jungkook groaned, staring at his cum in your tight hole. “Good job baby, can you add another finger for me?” 

You added another finger. It was a lot easier to push his cum deeper, but your pussy was getting sensitive. You were whimpering—the fact that he was just staring at you while rubbing his mushroom tip made you chase another high you didn’t even realize was coming. The pad of your fingers brushing against your g-spot with his cum felt so good, forcing you into another mind-blowing orgasm. The fact that you came just from pushing his cum deeper felt so dirty.

“Oh my gosh, I-fuck..” you were convulsing. You removed your fingers, trying to close your thighs shut, but Jungkook held your legs. He quickly inserted his hard cock, you were still pulsating and the feeling of his cock replacing your fingers extended your orgasm, your wet pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock.

“Fuck you feel so good, Daddy didn’t stretch you enough huh? You’re still fucking tight.” he growled, his hips making a rolling motion as his fingers pinched your nipples harshly.

Your tongue was almost out, your pussy still quivering, your clit so sensitive that even the feeling of his pubic hair brushing against it felt incredibly intense.

“Gonna fuck that tight little pussy till your loose, so that everytime you touch yourself your fingers would be too small for your gaping hole.” he grunted, his hands holding both of your wrists above your head, his other hand gripping your throat. He was fucking you so hard that your body was bouncing up. He crouched down to lick your sweaty neck, then moved down to your underarm, licking your sweat messily. You tried to move your arms, but his hold was firm, licking your other underarm and creating a huge wet mess.

“I-I’m close,” you choked, chasing another orgasm, overwhelmed by how many times you had come—you were certain your pussy would be numb after this.

“Hold it, you slut.” he bit the swell of your breast causing you to scream.

He held your body up, then laid down on the bed while holding your waist, placing you on top of him.

“Ride my cock.”

Desperate for release, you positioned your body in front of him, but Jungkook stopped you.

“On your back, babygirl.” he tapped your thighs.

Your cheeks reddened as you positioned your body with your back facing him. When you sank down, you immediately moaned, your ass against his lower stomach. The stretch felt so good, the veins on his cock filling your spongey walls perfectly.

“That’s it, make daddy proud.” he groaned, holding your waist while you moved up and down on him. Your legs were aching, but you didn’t care. When you felt his right tattooed hand slapping your ass, you almost came.

“You look so pretty.” you heard him whisper, his hand caressing your ass, your brows furrowed when his hand went deeper.  “Lower your body for me.”

Confused and a bit dazed, you lowered your body while still riding him. You shrieked loudly when his fingers played with your exposed rim, circling around the hole. You held his thighs, squeezing them hard when he tried to push his thumb in, the stretch making you shiver.

“Would you let me fuck you here, baby?’’ he whispered, pushing this thumb deeper, your tight walls swallowing him.

You haven’t done that before—you can’t even imagine it. He was the first man who touched you there. You were in so deep that you desperately nodded, clenching around his cock as the thought excited you.

He chuckled, “You’re so dirty baby, gonna let me fill all your holes hmm?”

You nodded again. “Yes, only for you J-Jungkook.”

“Yeah? you love me that much huh? I bet you hump your little cooky plushies thinking it’s my hard cock instead.”

He removed his thumb from your ass just to insert his middle and index finger, causing you to scream at the stretch. "Tell me baby, how many times have you masturbated huh?" Your movements slowed down from the sensation.

“Do you fantasize about me? Fantasize about your bias fucking your slutty holes?’’ he taunted, pushing his fingers deeper, his hips pushing up to meet your thrusts.

It was embarrassing; you didn’t answer, afraid to admit the dirty things you did every time you thought of Jungkook—afraid to admit how dirty you were behind your shy demeanor and innocent looks. You liked him so much, idolized him for years, dreamed about meeting him, dreamed about attending his concert, and in your most hidden fantasies… you dreamed about being his girlfriend, what it feels like to be loved by him, to be fucked by him.

“Hmm, baby? I bet you do,” he chuckled.

He removed his fingers, slapping your ass cheeks, then flipping you down onto the bed. “My dirty little girl, touching her little holes while thinking about her bias.”

You couldn’t maintain eye contact, your fingers fiddling with the sheets when he went down to grind his cock against your pussy, both of his arms beside your head.

“Aww baby, are you shy?” he cooed, pushing his cock inside you, trying to find the angle that hits your spot.

You pouted, your eyes a bit hesitant. He held your cheeks so you would look at him. “Don’t worry… daddy’s here, I’m gonna fuck you so good and make your dreams come true.” 

He spit into your parted mouth, urging you to swallow before fucking mercilessly into your tight hole. He held your thighs, almost folding you in half. Your pussy was so stretched and swollen. He leaned down to whisper moans in your ear, his movements so fast you were impressed by his stamina at this point.

“Cum with me baby,” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his mushroom tip hitting the right spot.

Jungkook forced you into another orgasm. You thought you wouldn’t cum, but your pussy was pulsating so badly, his cock still drilling inside you.

He let out a strained growl, his breathing turning heavier with each passing second. When you felt him cumming, he removed his cock from your pussy… quickly inserting it into your other unused hole.

You screamed loudly, the stretch sudden and painful… you could feel his cock pushing his cum deep inside your ass, the sensation making you shake and cry. When you tried to move, he held your waist tightly, balls snug so he could keep his warm cum inside.

He kissed your cheek, “So good for me, so pretty, so tight.” he whispered.

You thought he was done, but when he kissed you hard, his tongue dominating yours, you realized he wasn’t fully sated yet. He pulled you onto the nearest table, bending you over, your hands gripping it for support.

“Lift your leg here, baby,” he instructed, lifting your other leg so you were exposed to him.

The memories were hazy—you remembered him fucking you on the table while your cheeks burned red from the way he pushed you down. You could see the reflection in the mirror, your doll shoes still intact, the table wet from your drool. After that, he fucked your breasts, urging you to suck the tip like a good little whore.

Every time you thought he was done, he would pull you back again, whispering dirty praises about how you were such a good slut for him. His stamina was so impressive, and you were also impressed that you managed to stay awake the whole time.

Even when he was washing you up, he was very sweet, washing your hair and body, yet his fingers were still trailing down your swollen pussy. You protested, but he told you not to worry, saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna rub the pain away,” while rubbing your pussy in slow circles, causing you to release another orgasm in the shower.

Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt him spreading your legs, whispering. “Last one pretty girl, let me leave you a present when you wake up, yeah? All nice and wet in the morning.” 

It felt almost unreal—like something pulled from a dream you weren’t fully ready to believe had happened.

When you woke up, Jungkook was no longer there.

Your body felt heavy, drained in a way that made even small movements difficult. You shifted under the covers, blinking slowly as reality started to settle in piece by piece.

The room was quiet. When you sat up, your gaze fell to your doll shoes placed neatly nearby. 

You stared at them for a long moment, your chest tightening in a way you couldn’t quite explain. A quiet reminder that last night had not been a dream.

You weakly stood up, wearing a comfy oversized shirt you were certain was his. Walking over to the table, you noticed a set of breakfast meals laid out—eggs, waffles, bacon, fruits, and a pitcher of orange juice.

Still a bit dazed, you sat down on the couch and stared at the food in front of you, your mind struggling to catch up with reality. Last night still felt distant, almost unreal...like something your brain hadn’t fully accepted yet. But every time you shifted slightly and felt the marks on your skin, the memory returned sharply.

It was real.

You knew the rules. You would never see him again, you would never contact him again, and anything that happened that night would stay with you—carried quietly, taken to your grave.

Your eyes grew teary, not because you regretted it, but because some part of you wished it didn’t end so quickly.

Wished it lasted longer.

You knew better...that you and him were not in a fairytale. You wouldn’t be the special girl who eventually ends up with him. You weren’t inside some ridiculous fanfiction where he would text you afterward, telling you he missed you, that he wanted to see you again, that he might even love you.

Pure fiction.

Looking at the food in front of you, your eyes caught a small folded paper tucked beside the plate.

When you opened it, you had expected something sweet—maybe a cute note, maybe his number. You already knew the number he used wasn’t personal anyway, just an exclusive one-night line tied to the NDA.

“Dollshoes.”

It was written quickly, but you recognized his handwriting immediately.

You looked around and spotted a paper bag beside the bed. You stood up at once, walking towards it, your hands already shaking before you even reached it.

Carefully, you opened it.

Inside was a pair of glittery doll shoes.

You searched for a note, but there was none.

You pouted slightly, your heart still skipping at the small gesture. It wasn’t much—but it was something. At least he had left something for you.

It had been months since that night, but you would never forget it.

You told no one—not Mina, not anyone, not even in passing. You were almost afraid that speaking it out loud would make it less real… or worse, make you forget it entirely, reducing it to something that only felt like a dream.

Over the months, something else slowly clicked into place.

While reviewing your notes one day, your eyes drifted absentmindedly to your tote bag. Only then did you notice the small cooky keychain attached to it.

It had to have been what his manager saw.

A quiet sense of relief settled in you then—knowing that despite changing bags since that day, you had never taken it off.

You also tried to think harder—why did he give you a pair of doll shoes? Does he do that with all his hookups? Does he give them a farewell gift too after sleeping with them?

The thought left a strange mix in your chest. A little sadness and a little jealousy you couldn’t quite justify.

And yet, the doll shoes still felt like a strong reminder that you were once his...like he gave you something so you wouldn’t forget him.

Sometimes you would even wonder if everything that happened was only your imagination. His manager’s contact number, Jungkook’s number—gone from your phone. The NDA had included a strict no-contact clause, and everything tied to that night had disappeared with it.

Afterward, you didn’t see them anymore, and you had no idea whether they had even stayed in the country or left immediately.

The moment the marks on your body began to fade, you almost cried—like something of him was slowly slipping away from you too.

Wearing the doll shoes he gave you, you sat in a nice outdoor coffee shop with your laptop and a hot latte.

It had been almost a year.

Despite the beautiful view around you, your attention was fixed on your screen. You were writing a paper—your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment longer than necessary, like they understood something you didn’t want to admit.

You had been careful. Writing the details with precaution.

You changed the places, the countries, the names. You rewrote reality until it no longer belonged to anyone but you. Until it couldn’t be traced back—not to him, not to that night, not to the NDA that should have never felt real in the first place.

You even made sure to hide it in plain sight.

Just another fanfiction.

Just another story.

Just enough to protect yourself.

Just enough to protect him.

Your foot tapped lightly beneath the table, uneven, restless. A habit you picked up a year ago. A habit you never lost.

And then you wrote it—the memory still too fresh to feel like a memory at all.

“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.

And for a brief second—you wondered if anyone would believe it was just fiction.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

© 2026 ggukiebar, all rights reserved

“How about being a barista again? There’s a job opening at Moonlit Cafe down the street,” Hari suggested while you sat hunched over your laptop, endlessly browsing through job postings.

You were still a student, graduating next year with bills clawing at your throat. When college started, you wanted independence so badly it ached beneath your skin. An apartment near the university...your own keys, your own groceries and your own life.

Your parents had offered to cover everything without hesitation, gentle and loving as always, but guilt settled heavily in your chest whenever you thought about it. They were already paying your tuition fees. You wanted them to live comfortably too, without worrying about whether their daughter had enough money for rent or food. So you smiled and told them not to worry, drained your savings account for the apartment, and picked up multiple part-time jobs just to prove to yourself that you could survive on your own.

And for a while, you did.

The first two years of college went smoothly enough. You found decent jobs, saved enough money to live comfortably, and even bought yourself a flat-screen TV after months of careful budgeting. Your days blurred into exhausting routines—classes in the morning, shifts at the coffee shop at night, and weekends spent organizing shelves as a bookstore assistant.

You were tired all the time, but it was a satisfying kind of tired. The kind that made you feel accomplished. 

Until the coffee shop let you go.

Budget cuts, they said apologetically, avoiding your eyes while handing you the notice. Part-time workers were the first to go.

You still had the bookstore job, but the pay barely stretched far enough to cover groceries, let alone rent, electricity, and university expenses. Asking your parents for help would’ve been easy...too easy—but stubbornness rooted itself deep inside you. There were thousands of job postings online. Surely one of them would take you.

Only they never called back.

Two months had passed, and your savings were bleeding out faster than you could stop them. Every day followed the same suffocating routine: school, assignments, cheap instant dinners, and hours of doom-scrolling through applications until your vision blurred from the brightness of your screen.

You groaned quietly, rubbing your tired eyes before glancing over at Hari, who sat cross-legged beside you on the couch with a milk tea in hand. She had shown up at your apartment earlier carrying takeout bags and your favorite boba, worry written plainly across her face after noticing how little you’d been eating lately.

“I already applied there,” you muttered with a pout, dragging your gaze back to the laptop. “But they want someone full-time.”

Hari sighed dramatically, setting her drink down on the coffee table. “You seriously need to rest. You’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your boba and pushed it into your hands. The cold plastic pressed against your palms pleasantly.

“Drink,” she ordered. “And let me do the scrolling before you spiral into another existential crisis.”

A laugh bubbled out of her as she pulled the laptop from your lap, and despite the anxiety twisting endlessly inside your chest, you felt your shoulders loosen just a little.

You pouted lightly, sipping your boba while Hari busied herself with your laptop. Your brows slowly furrowed when you noticed her opening tab after tab with alarming confidence.

“Why are you on Facebook?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, watching her click somewhere else before another page loaded. “And now Twitter? Instagram too?”

Hari rolled her eyes dramatically, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. “Because the jobs on LinkedIn are painfully boring,” she scoffed. “There are tons of part-time job offers on social media. I swear I saw one yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes at the laptop suspiciously, scrolling with the intensity of a detective solving a murder case.

A laugh escaped you as you leaned against her shoulder, chewing on the tapioca pearls you had missed more than you cared to admit. You’d been saving every spare dollar lately, cutting out small comforts one by one until even buying boba started to feel irresponsible.

“But you don’t even know if those are legit,” you pointed out, tilting your head at her. “The sites I applied to are safer from scams and stuff.”

“I know,” Hari replied instantly. “That’s why we’re looking for jobs with a pay-first policy if it’s online.” She clicked onto another account before adding casually, “And if it’s onsite, we’ll bring a gun in case things go wrong or something.”

You burst out laughing at that, nearly choking on your drink.

“Hari!”

“What?” she laughed too, grinning shamelessly. “I’m just being prepared.”

You shook your head at her usual nonsense, warmth blooming faintly in your chest despite the stress that had been suffocating you for weeks now. Hari always had a way of dragging you out of your own head, even if only for a little while.

The apartment suddenly felt less heavy with her around.

You were honestly relieved that semester break had finally arrived. One whole month without classes, no early morning lectures, no deadlines and no professors piling work onto your shoulders.

But instead of resting like a normal person, you had thrown yourself deeper into job hunting.

Hari hated that.

As your closest friend, she had spent the last week trying to convince you to take a break—to go shopping with the girls, take an out-of-town trip, do literally anything that didn’t involve staring at job applications until three in the morning.

You declined every single invitation.

Your friends understood your situation, but they also thought you were driving yourself insane. Which, honestly...you probably were.

That was exactly why Hari showed up tonight carrying your favorite food and overpriced boba tea, determined to drag you away from your spiral. She kept trying to tempt you into going on a girls’ trip with them, insisting that one weekend away wouldn’t kill you.

But every time you thought about relaxing, all you could picture were your bills piling quietly on the kitchen counter. So instead, you stayed curled up on the couch beside her, stubbornly searching for a job you desperately needed.

Hari was beginning to look almost as desperate as you. Maybe not for herself, but for you—for the way your shoulders had slowly grown heavier these past few months, for the exhaustion permanently shadowing your eyes. She wanted you to land a job already so you could finally breathe again without worrying about rent and unpaid bills swallowing you whole.

Which was exactly why she was now doom-scrolling through Twitter with frightening determination.

“I really don’t think you’re gonna find a job there,” you muttered skeptically, watching her open an alarming amount of random threads. “Most of those look like scams.”

“Wait, wait—look at this!”

Hari suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to the screen, quickly setting her milk tea down beside her like she was preparing for something serious.

Her eyes widened.

“Okay, this one actually looks promising.”

You leaned in slightly as she read aloud.

mnijungkook on ig posted: i’m looking for someone who can take insanely good videos and photos [of me]. i’ll somehow figure out the equipment myself..! please somehow reach out to me! lol, looking for someone to film for me, seriously. and if you’re good at editing too? let’s go on tour together

“There are so many likes and retweets,” Hari said immediately, already opening another tab to search for the original Instagram post. “This has to be legit.”

The second you recognized the username, you nearly choked on your drink.

Laughter burst out of you uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you clutched the cup tighter. Hari blinked at you in confusion while your eyes watered from laughing too hard.

“Hari,” you wheezed out, “That’s Jungkook.”

She stared blankly. “Huh? The boss?”

Another laugh escaped you.

Hari genuinely knew almost nothing about K-pop or Korean artists in general, and moments like this always reminded you just how different the two of you were.

Meanwhile, you had once been painfully obsessed.

You used to stay up until dawn watching livestreams, memorizing lyrics, collecting photocards you definitely couldn’t afford, and keeping up with every tiny update posted online. Back then, being a fan felt like a second full-time job.

But life eventually became busier.

School consumed your mornings, work consumed your nights, and somewhere in between surviving deadlines and paying bills, your fangirl phase quietly faded into the background. You still listened to their music almost daily, still smiled whenever one of their songs shuffled into your playlist, but you no longer kept up with every post or appearance the way you once did.

You guessed you had simply grown up.

Even so, seeing Jungkook casually asking for a videographer and editor on Instagram felt surreal enough to make you laugh all over again.

Not updated enough to know that Jungkook was apparently posting job offers on Instagram now. Or that he was even on tour.

“No,” you laughed, shaking your head as you finally calmed down a little. “That’s Jungkook. From BTS. They’re, like… insanely famous, Hari. This is probably some kind of joke or publicity thing.”

Hari’s brows knitted together in confusion before realization slowly dawned across her face. She clicked onto the Instagram profile, eyes widening at the blue verification check and the terrifying number of followers sitting beneath his username.

Nearly thirty million.

“Ohhh, BTS,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Wait—I think I’ve seen him before.” She squinted at one of the photos. “Wasn’t he in a Calvin Klein ad or something?”

You snorted. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Honestly, you expected her to laugh it off after realizing who posted it. Maybe call the idea ridiculous and move on to another job listing.

Instead, Hari clicked onto his Instagram story again with alarming seriousness.

“That means…” she trailed off.

“It’s probably a joke,” you interrupted immediately.

“This is good pay,” she said at the exact same time, eyes practically glittering now.

Before you could stop her, she pressed the reply button beneath the story.

Your lips parted slightly. You genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or completely delusional right now...probably both. But either way, you let her continue typing because there was absolutely no chance Jungkook himself would ever see it.

He probably received thousands of messages every minute. Millions, even.

The thought alone felt ridiculous.

“Whatever,” you muttered with a helpless chuckle, giving up entirely. “I’m heating up the rice bowl.”

Hari waved you off distractedly, already multitasking between your laptop and her phone like this had suddenly become her personal mission.

You shook your head fondly before standing from the couch, grabbing the takeout container she bought earlier. The apartment filled with the quiet hum of the microwave a moment later, warm light spilling across the tiny kitchen while Hari continued aggressively applying for a job that definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent was never going to happen.

-

You woke up to the shrill sound of your alarm, already preparing yourself for another long day of job hunting.

Hari went home late last night after spending an absurd amount of time DMing Jungkook and scrolling through social media for more “opportunities,” as she called them. Somewhere between laughing at ridiculous job listings and sharing takeout on your couch, the two of you ended up watching an old Disney movie to help you relax.

She still tried convincing you to go on the girls’ out-of-town trip. You still refused.

No matter how badly you wanted a break, your priorities were painfully clear right now. You needed stability first. A stable paycheck and a stable life. Then maybe you could afford to breathe.

After showering, you made yourself a decent cup of coffee and opened your laptop with a tired sigh, mentally preparing to send out another batch of applications that probably wouldn’t get answered.

Then your phone buzzed beside you. An Instagram notification lit up the screen.

You snorted softly to yourself. “This must be Jungkook,” you joked under your breath, absentmindedly opening the app.

What the fuck.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the message sitting in your inbox. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in your mouth.

What the actual fuck?

“Hari!” you practically shrieked the second she answered your call. “Fuck! I don’t even edit videos! I only know basic stuff! I can’t even record properly without my hands shaking!”

You paced around your apartment while panicking into the phone, one hand gripping your hair as you reread the messages over and over again in disbelief.

Sometime after you went to the kitchen last night, Hari had apparently taken it upon herself to completely ruin your life.

She sent Jungkook your entire curriculum vitae.

Not only that—she also wrote and attached a full cover letter explaining why he should hire you.

The realization alone nearly made you pass out.

And when you discovered she had changed your insta profile picture into a formal-looking one while you weren’t paying attention?

You almost laughed and cried at the same time.

It genuinely looked like you had desperately prepared for this opportunity your entire life.

Your eyes skimmed through the cover letter again, horror slowly mixing with something embarrassingly emotional. Hari had written your entire backstory in there—about struggling financially, balancing school and work, trying to stay independent despite everything.

And then she started lying. Blatantly.

Apparently, according to Hari, you were “highly skilled in video editing” with “experience in cinematography.”

Cinematography my ass.

“Hehe… well,” Hari giggled shamelessly through the phone, completely unbothered by your spiraling. Noise echoed behind her, voices and music blending together enough for you to realize she was already with the girls on their trip. “You have to fake a few things to get accepted sometimes, right?”

“Ugh, I can’t do this!” you cried dramatically, pacing back and forth around your apartment while gripping your phone tightly. “I literally don’t know anything about filming! And what if he sues me for faking my skills? He’s famous and influential, Hari!”

Your eyes darted back toward your laptop sitting open on the table, Jungkook’s message glowing on the screen like a ticking time bomb ready to ruin your entire life.

Hari only laughed harder through the call.

“Girl, just try!” she said between giggles. “Watch a tutorial on YouTube or something. Besides…” her tone suddenly turned suspiciously persuasive, “It’s really good pay.”

“Hari!” you screamed again, horrified.

“God, I still can’t believe he actually replied to you,” she continued teasingly. “You must’ve impressed him with your amazing cinematography skills.”

You groaned so loudly you nearly scared yourself.

The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong about the pay.

Your eyes had nearly bulged out of your skull when you saw the amount attached to the offer. There were so many zeros that your brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment.

That was exactly why you couldn’t let it go.

Out of everyone who probably replied to his story, Jungkook somehow answered you. 

You. The probability alone felt absurd.

Thousands of people would kill for this opportunity right now, and meanwhile you were pacing around your apartment like you were preparing for a court trial instead of a job offer.

At first, the teenage fangirl buried deep inside you nearly exploded from excitement. The situation dragged you back to years ago—staying up until four in the morning streaming music videos, binge-watching funny compilations, memorizing choreography you could never actually dance, spending money you absolutely shouldn’t have spent on albums and photocards.

Back then, BTS had practically consumed your life. But time passed.

Somewhere between work shifts, college deadlines, and trying to survive adulthood, you slowly stopped keeping up with them. You still listened to the music, of course, but you no longer knew where they were, what they were doing, or how much they had changed over the years.

Curiosity eventually got the better of you. So you stalked Jungkook’s Instagram a little.

And oh.

Oh, he had changed.

A full sleeve of tattoos now wrapped around his right arm, dark ink decorating skin that used to be bare. Silver piercings glinted against his face in ways that somehow suited him unfairly well. His frame had broadened too, shoulders stronger, body lean and built with the kind of maturity that made him almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered.

You were used to soft brown hair, oversized hoodies, black skinny jeans, clean arms, and those wide doe-like eyes that made the entire internet lose their minds.

Now he looked mature, more dangerous somehow.

A man instead of a boy. And annoyingly enough, it looked really good on him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, finally realizing you’d been staring at a motorcycle video he posted for far too long.

You immediately locked your phone and pressed it dramatically against your forehead.

“I cannot fangirl right now or I’m seriously gonna lose it.”

Hari kept telling you to just go for it. “You literally have a whole month off from school,” she argued over the phone while you spiraled for the hundredth time. “This is basically the perfect sideline job.”

Sideline job. As if working for Jungkook of BTS was equivalent to tutoring kids after class.

Your stomach twisted anxiously as you stared at the message again. Every second that passed made you feel like the opportunity was slipping farther away. With the amount of people probably flooding his inbox right now, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind the moment someone actually qualified replied to him.

Your eyes skimmed over his message again, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast.

mnijungkook: hey, i saw your cv ㅎㅎ you really didn’t have to explain everything, but i’m glad you did. i can tell you’re being genuine about this. even without samples, the way you talked about cinematography/editing made me feel like you actually care about it and pay attention to details. sometimes that matters more to me than someone trying too hard to look “professional”

also i get the whole semester break thing. a month is still enough time to try something fun and see if we work well together

don’t stress too much about equipment either because i barely know what i’m doing there yet lol

for payment, don’t worry. if you end up coming with me, i’ll make sure you’re paid well — probably around $20-30k usd for the month depending on the schedule + travel and hotel covered. 

send me your contact info? we can talk more properly :))

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I am not passionate about cinematography,” you nearly whimpered to yourself, dropping your face into your hands. “To hell with cinematography.”

The amount of lies in Hari’s cover letter was genuinely evil.

And now Jungkook thought you were some hidden creative genius with an artistic eye and a deep love for filmmaking when in reality you barely knew how to stabilize a phone camera.

You felt sick.

But then your eyes drifted back to the payment offer. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars. Travel covered. Hotels covered. Your bank account practically screamed at you to shut up and take the opportunity.

So with trembling fingers and the overwhelming sensation that you were actively ruining your own life, you began typing a reply. A reply that dug your grave even deeper.

You agreed with him...agreed that you were a “good editor.”

You added your contact details while simultaneously praying that YouTube tutorials could somehow transform you into a professional videographer overnight.

Your fingers hovered above the send button before you forced yourself to press it.

You: thank you so much for even considering me :D i really do believe i’m a good editor, especially when it comes to making things feel natural and cinematic instead of overdone. 

i’d genuinely love to work for you if you’ll have me. i’m willing to learn fast, adjust to whatever style you want, and work hard during the whole month of my semester break.

my contact details are below, thank you so much!

The message was sent instantly.

You stared at the screen in silence afterward, horror slowly settling into every inch of your body.

Yeah. You were doomed.

-

“Wow, what the hell.” Your eyes widened the second you stepped into the hotel room Jungkook had booked for you.

The past few days had moved so fast it almost gave you whiplash. After you sent your contact details, Jungkook immediately messaged you about schedules, filming dates, locations, and travel arrangements as if hiring strangers from Instagram was a completely normal thing for him to do.

Everything had already been prepared before you could even panic properly.

Your plane ticket? Booked.

Hotel room? Paid for.

Transportation? Arranged.

Food allowance? Included.

All you had to do was pack your bags and somehow learn how to film and edit professionally before embarrassing yourself on an international scale.

Easy.

“I am so spoiled,” you muttered in disbelief, slowly stepping farther into the room. It was huge.

Bigger than huge, honestly. The hotel suite looked almost the size of your apartment back home, warm lighting spilling across polished floors and neatly arranged furniture that looked far too expensive for you to even breathe near.

Then your attention landed on the large table sitting near the windows. And your soul nearly left your body.

Equipment. So much fucking equipment.

Two massive black cameras rested neatly beside a smaller handheld one. There was an iPad, a laptop, tripods, microphones, chargers, lighting equipment, and cables so intimidating they looked like they belonged inside a spaceship instead of a filming setup.

Your luggage slipped from your fingers onto the floor with a dull thud as you walked toward the table cautiously, like the devices might explode if you touched them incorrectly.

Your eyes widened even more.

For the past several days, you have been desperately teaching yourself how to edit videos and film cinematic shots. Watching tutorials until sunrise. Memorizing transitions. Learning random camera terms you barely understood.

But you had been practicing with your phone. Your fucking phone.

Meanwhile these cameras looked expensive enough to pay your rent for the next ten years.

You carefully picked one up with both hands, terrified you’d somehow damage it through sheer incompetence alone.

Honestly, you were still shocked Jungkook never asked for samples of your work.

If he had, your career would’ve ended immediately.

The only thing you could’ve shown him was a mediocre CapCut edit with dramatic black-and-white filters slapped over it to make it look “cinematic.”

You groaned loudly, dropping your forehead against the edge of the table.

“Oh my God,” you whispered into the expensive wood. “I’m actually a fraud.”

You nearly lost balance holding the enormous camera in your hands, quickly tightening your grip before your entire future shattered onto the hotel floor in high definition. “Woah, this is heavy.”

Your eyes stayed locked on the equipment nervously as you adjusted the strap around your wrist, trying your best to look like someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because if Jungkook realized how painfully inexperienced you were, he might personally send you back to your country on the next available flight.

You wouldn’t even blame him. The past few nights had been brutal.

You barely slept at all, surviving almost entirely on instant noodles, caffeine, and pure fear while desperately teaching yourself editing techniques through YouTube tutorials. Your laptop had become an extension of your body at this point, constantly running sample footage you filmed around your apartment just so you could practice transitions, lighting adjustments, stabilization, and color grading.

You even studied Jungkook’s editing style specifically.

The pacing of his vlogs, the soft cinematic filters, the random zoom-ins and the casual, natural feeling of the clips.

You analyzed everything like your life depended on it because technically, your rent kind of did. You were getting paid for this...a ridiculous amount, too.

And there was absolutely no way you could afford getting exposed now.

“Okay…” you muttered slowly while fiddling with the camera settings. “This is kinda… easy?”

You said it more like a question than a statement. Still, you forced yourself to keep going.

You searched up tutorials for the exact camera model, watched setup guides, practiced adjusting focus and lighting, and filmed random clips around the room like an aspiring film student fighting for survival.

At some point, you even started taking artistic shots of your coffee cup near the hotel window. For practice, obviously.

Tomorrow was your first official filming day.

According to the schedule Jungkook emailed you earlier, you’d be accompanying him to a golf activity before the concert. He wanted behind-the-scenes footage for the fans—small moments throughout the day, casual interactions, preparations before performing.

And apparently that was only the beginning. Over the next few days, you’d also be filming soundchecks, backstage moments, errands, workouts, rehearsals, and random snippets of his daily routine while on tour.

Basically, your entire existence now revolves around documenting Jungkook’s life aesthetically.

No pressure.

You used his latest vlog as your main reference while practicing, pausing every few seconds to study angles and editing choices carefully. Honestly, the style itself wasn’t impossible to recreate. It leaned more natural than overly polished, which helped calm your nerves slightly.

The problem was you, you weren’t skilled.

And the more you thought about his expectations, the more your stomach twisted itself into knots.

But backing out wasn’t an option anymore.

So instead of panicking yourself into quitting, you threw every ounce of energy into learning.

Like you were preparing for the Olympics instead of secretly faking your way into being Jungkook’s videographer.

You almost had a heart attack when your phone suddenly buzzed while you were testing the cameras.

The heavy device nearly slipped straight out of your hands as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen.

Your pulse instantly skyrocketed.

Jungkook: hey, i left all the equipment on the table in your hotel room because i had to leave early for rehearsal. camera batteries are charging already, memory cards are inside the small black case, and i think i accidentally tangled all the wires together so… good luck with that honestly ㅎㅎ

there’s also a pass hanging on the chair for backstage access. don’t lose it or my manager’s gonna kill me lol

take your time checking everything first before we head out tomorrow. and if anything’s confusing just call me :))

You stared at the message for a moment longer than necessary, a smile unconsciously pulling at your lips.

His personality somehow translated perfectly even through text messages alone—easygoing, playful, ridiculously approachable despite being one of the biggest celebrities in the world.

It reminded you exactly why he used to be your ultimate bias years ago. There was something naturally charming about him.

You quickly typed a reply before you could overthink it too much.

You: yes! i am checking them out hehe.. the batteries are currently charging, the cards are safe, and i’m currently fighting for my life trying to untangle these wires hahaha

good luck with rehearsal!! see you tomorrow!

The second you pressed send, immediate regret flooded your body. You stared at your message in horror.

Why did I sound like that?

Your cheeks burned violently as you reread the multiple “hehe’s” and unnecessary laughter typed into the conversation like a teenager texting her crush for the first time.

You physically covered your face with your hands.

“Oh my God,” you groaned into your palms. It wasn’t like you were trying to flirt. 

Or maybe… just a little bit.

Which honestly made the situation infinitely worse.

You used to be an incredibly dedicated ARMY once upon a time, and frankly...this entire situation was making your heart malfunction.

Working for Jungkook, texting Jungkook and meeting Jungkook.

It all felt unreal in the most dangerous way possible.

But you forced yourself to set the fangirl part aside before it completely consumed you. You needed to stay professional, calm and composed.

Otherwise, you were genuinely convinced you’d suffer a stroke before filming a single decent piece of content for him.

So instead of spiraling, you spent the entire night practicing.

Testing the cameras, learning the settings...adjusting lighting.

Checking the microphones repeatedly to make sure the audio sounded clean.

You edited random sample clips until your eyes burned from exhaustion, determined to familiarize yourself with the equipment enough to at least fake confidence tomorrow.

And somehow, by pure fear-driven determination alone, morning arrived faster than expected.

You woke up early to practice filming one last time before leaving, moving around the hotel room with nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. You were oddly dedicated now...almost desperate—to prove that hiring you wasn’t a mistake.

After showering, you dressed carefully in clothes that screamed “professional videographer” despite the fact that you absolutely were not one.

A black long-sleeved polo, dark slacks and black shoes. You even tied your hair back neatly, staring at yourself in the mirror afterward like you were about to infiltrate the FBI instead of filming golf content.

A knock sounded at your hotel door.

“Good day, Ms. Y/N. Are you ready?”

You immediately straightened up before opening it, greeted by one of the bodyguards Jungkook assigned to escort you. His black shades reflected your visibly nervous expression back at you.

“Yes,” you answered quickly, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Before leaving, you double-checked everything one last time—the batteries, memory cards, laptop, chargers—making sure nothing important was missing before following the bodyguard downstairs.

Outside, a sleek black car waited for you.

Your heartbeat quickened the moment you stepped inside.

You were scheduled to arrive an hour earlier than Jungkook so you could prepare the equipment and set everything up properly before filming started. Which meant you had an entire hour alone to panic in peace. 

The ride itself was painfully quiet. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the car while city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Your hands rested stiffly over your bag, fingers nervously tapping against the expensive camera inside while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

You swallowed hard. “I can do this,” you whispered quietly to yourself.

Though honestly, you sounded unconvinced. The moment the golf course entrance came into view, your stomach twisted so violently you almost gagged.

Oh God. This was actually happening.

The bodyguard escorted you inside shortly after, guiding you toward the smaller private golf area before leaving you alone to prepare your setup.

The silence that followed felt enormous.

You slowly placed the equipment down, inhaling deeply as the morning breeze brushed against your face. The golf course stretched beautifully beneath the early sunlight, calm and expensive and intimidating all at once.

And somewhere in the middle of unpacking tripods with trembling hands, one horrifying realization settled heavily into your chest.

Soon, Jungkook was going to arrive.

You looked around quietly, taking in the golf course while trying to calm the violent beating of your heart.

The place felt tucked away from the rest of the world somehow—small, peaceful, almost unreal in its stillness. Unlike the massive championship courses you usually saw online, this one felt more intimate. The holes were laid out closer together across smooth fairways trimmed so perfectly they looked like green velvet beneath the morning sun.

Small sand bunkers curved around the landscape, soft hills rolling gently beneath clean white flags planted in the distance.

No screaming crowds, no cameras flashing endlessly...just the distant rustling of trees, the muted hum of golf carts somewhere farther away, and every now and then, the satisfying thunk of a golf club striking a ball cleanly through the air.

Though, it would’ve been relaxing if you weren’t moments away from throwing up from anxiety.

Your hands were already sweaty as you unpacked the equipment carefully, trying not to look like you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. You adjusted the camera repeatedly, searching for decent angles while silently thanking every higher power possible that there weren’t many people around.

Only a few locals occupied the course, minding their own business.

Good.

Less witnesses for your downfall.

You became so focused on testing camera movements and practicing steady shots that you completely failed to notice someone approaching behind you.

It wasn’t until you angled the camera upward during practice that your soul nearly exited your body.

Jungkook stood directly in frame, smiling right into the lens. Your heart stopped.

“Hi,” he greeted warmly, amusement flickering across his face as he glanced at the camera in your hands. “Looks like you’re having fun already.”

A black sports bag rested beside your equipment now, meaning he must’ve walked over while you were too busy pretending to be a professional filmmaker to notice.

Your eyes widened instantly. “Oh my God—”

You almost tripped over your own feet while hurriedly lowering the camera, panic rushing through your body all at once.

“I was just, um—checking the angles,” you explained nervously, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward. “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”

You quickly wiped your damp palms against your slacks before offering your hand to him politely.

Up close, he somehow looked even more unreal. Tall, broad-shouldered, with beautiful tattoos curling around his arm, silver piercings catching the sunlight softly whenever he smiled.

And unfortunately for your sanity, he was even more handsome in person. The kind of handsome that made it difficult to think properly when he looked at you for too long.

He chuckled softly before taking your hand in his. 

Your brain short-circuited immediately.

Dressed in a fitted white polo shirt and black Nike shorts, a black cap resting low over his dark hair in a way that somehow made him look both ridiculously expensive and effortlessly casual at the same time.

The shirt did absolutely nothing to hide how built he was.

You could see the outline of his muscles beneath the fabric every time he moved, his shoulders broad enough to almost completely block the sunlight from where you stood.

“Hello,” he said warmly, shaking your hand once. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you too.” Your cheeks instantly burned.

Seeing him through a screen was one thing. Seeing him in person felt entirely different.

He was so much more charismatic up close it almost irritated you. His bunny teeth peeked out whenever he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners while he spoke in that easy, friendly tone that made it impossible not to relax around him.

His entire aura felt bright somehow...and dangerously charming.

You were absolutely screwed.

“I’ll leave the filming techniques up to you,” he continued casually, walking over toward the cooler nearby. “Feel free to film me however you want. No pressure.”

No pressure.

As if your nervous system wasn’t already collapsing in on itself.

He grabbed a cold bottle of water before offering another one toward you naturally, like this entire situation wasn’t surreal at all.

“Thank you,” you answered quickly, taking the bottle before immediately setting it aside again. “Uh—I’ll start filming now!”

You lifted the camera again with almost aggressive determination, eager to gather as much footage as possible. More clips meant more editing options later. More editing options meant a smaller chance of exposing yourself as a complete fraud.

Jungkook raised an amused brow at your sudden seriousness, his gaze briefly traveled over your outfit before returning to your face.

“You sure?” he asked lightly. “You don’t wanna eat first? I still have to stretch and stuff anyway.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nope.”

Your grip tightened around the camera slightly. “I wanna include behind-the-scenes snippets too, so…” you explained, trying your best to sound professional despite your racing heart. “This would actually be good footage.”

The determination in your voice made Jungkook smile again. And for some reason, that tiny look of approval made your stomach flip harder than it should have.

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said easily. “Just tell me if you need specific details or angles.”

Then he walked toward the side of the golf course to begin stretching.

You immediately followed after him with the camera clutched in your hands exactly the way you practiced all night, quickly pressing record before your nerves could stop you.

At first, things seemed to be going surprisingly well. You filmed everything.

His warm-ups were slow, deliberate...like he was already in control of everything around him.

The way he adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. The subtle flex of his arms as he set up his iron, muscles shifting beneath fabric like something effortless and practiced. The clean, confident swing of the club cutting through air before striking the ball with a sharp, satisfying sound. The soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes as he shifted his stance, grounding himself between each shot.

Then the stillness between it all.

Him sitting down beneath the shade, momentarily retreating from the sun. Him lifting a bottle of water to his lips, throat moving as he drank, the back of his hand brushing sweat away from his neck without much thought.

You practically documented his entire existence.

At one point, you even almost followed him toward the restroom before your brain caught up with your body at the last second.

You genuinely thought you were doing an amazing job.

From your perspective, more footage meant more options later during editing. You didn’t want to miss a single moment that could potentially look cinematic or useful.

But from Jungkook’s perspective… It was a little concerning.

At first, he simply watched quietly. He noticed the small mistakes immediately—the way you held the camera too stiffly sometimes, the awkward adjustments of the lens, the shaky transitions between movements.

Still, he tried convincing himself that maybe you were just getting comfortable with the equipment. Maybe you simply needed time.

But as the day continued, realization slowly settled in. Especially when he caught you aggressively zooming into completely unnecessary details before quickly rotating the lens too fast, creating footage that would probably look dizzying when played back.

Beginner.

The word settled into his thoughts almost instantly. You followed him everywhere with unwavering focus, constantly checking the framing, adjusting settings, filming from different angles even when your hands visibly started struggling beneath the camera’s weight.

By the time he returned from the restroom later that afternoon, he paused slightly at the sight of you near the equipment table.

You were rotating your shoulders carefully with a tired grimace, trying to ease the soreness from carrying the camera all day. Sweat clung lightly against your forehead beneath the heat of the sun, and your fingers looked faintly red from gripping the equipment for hours.

Still, the moment you noticed him approaching again, you instinctively reached for the camera.

“I think you have enough footage for today,” Jungkook said quietly before you could pick it up again.

His voice carried something firmer now. Your hands froze mid-motion.

You blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the camera. “But you’re not done yet.”

He was still in the middle of playing. There were still shots left, more footage you could take, more angles you could practice.

But instead of continuing, Jungkook simply placed the iron back onto the rack with a quiet sigh.

Something about his body language had changed. Subtle, but noticeable.

The playful brightness from earlier dimmed slightly, exhaustion settling into the slope of his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck.

And suddenly, anxiety crept beneath your skin.

Was he disappointed?

The answer was yes. Not angry…but disappointed enough to realize the truth little by little throughout the day.

You don’t have any clue on what you were doing.

The way you handled the camera, the inconsistent framing, the random zoom-ins, the awkward adjustments every few seconds—it was painfully obvious that you were inexperienced.

And for a brief moment, ugly thoughts crossed his mind despite himself.

He trusted you.

Even without polished sample reels or impressive portfolios, he still chose to trust you. Your cover letter had been painfully sincere, especially the part about wanting independence. Wanting to do things on your own so you wouldn’t burden your parents, wanting to make them proud and wanting to stand on your own feet.

A lot of people sent him impressive applications. High-quality edits, cinematic videos and professional portfolios crafted carefully to catch his attention. Thousands of direct messages flooded his account constantly, most of them blending together into meaningless noise after a while.

But yours stood out somehow.

Maybe it was the formal profile picture that made him laugh- looked strangely earnest among the endless stream of unserious messages. Maybe it was the desperation hidden between your carefully written sentences. Or maybe it was simply because your letter resonated with him more than he expected it to.

He understood that kind of desperation.

That overwhelming need to prove yourself to the world.

He had been independent from a young age too, forced to grow up far earlier than most people ever had to. He knew what it felt like to carry pressure so heavy it started shaping the person you became.

But still—

Maybe you lied just to get close to him.

Maybe you wanted the money.

Maybe you were just another person trying to take advantage of him somehow.

God knew he had already met far too many people like that.

But every time those thoughts surfaced, they disappeared almost instantly the second he looked at you again.

Because you were trying so hard.

The determination written across your face all day felt painfully genuine, from the way you followed him around with aching arms to the sweat gathering near your forehead while you forced yourself to keep filming despite your obvious exhaustion.

You looked less like a manipulative opportunist and more like someone desperately trying not to fail.

Still, disappointment lingered quietly beneath his ribs. A dull ache he couldn’t quite shake away no matter how sincere you looked trying to impress him.

And instead of sending you home immediately, another thought slowly crept into his mind.

Something dangerous and mean.

Something dirty enough to make his pulse slow.

He wanted to punish you for it.

Not enough to truly hurt you—never that...but enough to make you understand exactly what happened when you lied to him. Enough to leave you breathless beneath the weight of his attention, overwhelmed by the consequences of trying to fool him so boldly.

Jungkook had always been competitive for a reason.

He hated losing, hated being made a fool of.

And now that you had managed to slip past his guard so easily, there was no way he was letting you walk away untouched by it.

Oh, he was going to have so much fun with you.

“I wanna film something,” he finally said instead, voice quieter now. More serious.

Your breath caught slightly at the sudden change in tone. The warmth from earlier had faded into something calmer.

“Oh,” you answered softly, momentarily caught off guard. “Okay! What kind of content?”

You quickly stood up and began fixing the equipment into your bags, noticing him grab his car keys from beside his sports bag.

“You’ll see,” he said simply, before turning toward the exit.

Your own brows furrowed in confusion. The schedule he sent clearly stated golf content for today.

Still, you followed him quietly anyway. When he told you to ride with him instead of the escort vehicle, your confusion deepened even more, though you didn’t question it aloud. Maybe he wanted driving footage or some cinematic clips for the vlog.

That had to be it.

Your heart thumped nervously as you climbed into his car beside him, immediately noticing how sleek and absurdly expensive the interior looked. The soft scent of fresh mint lingered in the air, clean and comforting somehow.

The realization that you were sitting inside Jungkook’s car with Jungkook himself nearly made your soul leave your body.

Your hands instinctively reached toward the camera bag.

“No,” Jungkook chuckled softly the moment he noticed. “You’re not gonna film here, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl.

Your entire brain stopped functioning. Heat rushed violently into your cheeks as you slowly pulled your hands away from the bag.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Okay…”

You bit your lip afterward, turning slightly toward the window to hide your expression while curiosity twisted tighter inside your chest.

Where exactly was he taking you?

The moment you saw the familiar hotel building come into view through the windshield, confusion settled deeper into your chest.

You followed Jungkook quietly through the lobby, nerves buzzing beneath your skin with every step.

He had gone strangely quiet after golf. Still calm, still composed—but not as bright as before. The easy smiles disappeared, replaced by something heavier lingering beneath his expression, and it made your stomach tighten painfully.

“Uhm…” you started carefully while standing beside him inside the elevator. “Are you gonna get a few more cameras or something?”

The elevator doors slid shut. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, his doe eyes half-lidded in a way that made your throat suddenly feel dry.

“Take a guess.”

Your heartbeat stumbled. Something about his tone made nervousness crawl violently through your body. And when the elevator finally opened onto your floor, Jungkook grabbed your wrist without warning.

You gasped softly, he dragged you out impatiently, long strides carrying the two of you quickly down the hallway toward your hotel room. His grip wasn’t painful, but firm enough to make your pulse race uncontrollably beneath your skin.

By the time you stopped in front of your door, your mind was already spiraling. Jungkook looked down at you expectantly, his pupils dilated, still holding your wrist while waiting for you to unlock the room.

Did he figure it out? The thought struck so hard your chest physically tightened.

Your fingers trembled slightly while pulling out the keycard. Guilt flooded your system all at once, thick and suffocating.

You were scared.

Scared he’d yell at you. Scared he’d confiscate the equipment. Scared he’d have you booked on the next flight home before you even had a chance to explain yourself.

Completely unaware of the way his dark, playful mind worked. Completely unaware of how badly he wanted to punish you.

“Jungkook, I—”

But the words died immediately when he walked past you instead.

He took the camera bag from your hands and moved straight toward the table, pulling out the camera you used earlier before checking the rest of the equipment you left behind.

You blinked in confusion. Huh?

Jungkook grabbed another camera calmly before setting up one of the tripods with practiced ease. The way his fingers moved across the equipment was fast and precise, adjusting settings effortlessly while rotating the camera into position like second nature. His shoulders flexed beneath the white polo each time he lifted the tripod, veins bulging faintly along his tattooed forearms while he fixed the lighting behind it.

Your lips parted slightly without meaning to. He looked ridiculously good doing something as simple as setting up cameras.

“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, confused.

Jungkook glanced back at you over his shoulder while tightening something near the tripod head.

“Sit on the bed for me.”

Your stomach flipped violently. “H-Huh? I mean okay,” you answered quietly, swallowing hard before slowly moving toward the bed.

You sat carefully near the edge while watching him continue adjusting the setup.

With one hand alone, Jungkook lifted the heavy tripod effortlessly and positioned it directly in front of the bed, angling the camera downward toward where you sat.

The veins along his arms flexed again beneath the strain.

Your throat went completely dry. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before.

Hotter too.

You watched silently as he grabbed another tripod, this time placing it to the right side of the bed. Both cameras pointed directly at you now. And for some reason, the sight made your heartbeat pound harder than ever before.

He looked through the camera lens carefully, head tilting slightly as he adjusted the angle. “Lay down on the bed.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What—”

“Lay down.” he commanded sharply.

This time, his tone came out firmer. Leaving absolutely no room for argument.

And somehow, the way he looked at you through the camera lens sent a sharp shiver crawling down your spine.

To your own horror, excitement slowly started mixing with the fear curling inside your stomach.

You almost wanted to slap yourself for it.

You swallowed hard before slowly slipping your shoes off, awkwardly climbing farther onto the bed until your back rested against the headboard.

Every movement suddenly felt painfully self-aware beneath the cameras pointed directly at you.

Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully while studying the frame through the viewfinder, eventually stepping forward again to move the tripod closer.

Before you could shift yourself lower against the mattress, he suddenly walked toward you instead. Your breath hitched the second he crouched down in front of you holding the clip-on microphone.

He leaned in close enough for you to catch the faint scent of mint lingering on him.

“You forgot these earlier,” he said lightly, though there was something mocking beneath the softness of his voice now.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Uhm… I was in a rush, so…” Your cheeks burned instantly from embarrassment. 

Of course you forgot the microphones!

Jungkook raised a brow slowly. “You were in a rush?” he repeated with a quiet chuckle before standing back up again.

Then he walked toward the table and grabbed the smaller digital camcorder, casually aiming it toward you.

The amount of cameras pointed at you now made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Instinctively, you tried sitting up straighter, but Jungkook stopped you immediately.

“Stay still,” he said calmly. “I wanna test the cameras.”

“Test the cameras?”

“I think you need a little demo, baby.” Your heartbeat stopped. “You weren’t doing a very good job earlier.” The teasing mockery in his tone hit you like a truck.

And suddenly everything crashed down at once. Your eyes widened in horror.

Fuck. He knew.

Heat rushed violently into your face and neck, humiliation crawling across your entire body so intensely it almost hurt. Your chest tightened painfully while tears burned behind your eyes before you could stop them.

You looked away instinctively, shame flooding every inch of you.

God, this was so embarrassing.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you stammered quickly, panic slipping into your voice. “I’m not trying to scam you or anything, it’s just that—”

He stepped closer until his knees brushed against the edge of the bed.

And somehow, that almost satisfied look on his face made your stomach twist even more.

You looked so shy...like a poor little thing unknowingly walking straight into his hands.

His gaze lingered on you with dangerous amusement, as though you had already become his favorite test subject for the cameras.

Dark lazy eyes dragged slowly across your body, taking their time, shamelessly roaming over every inch of you while his imagination sparked vividly to life. You could almost see the thoughts forming behind his eyes—every filthy thing he wanted to do to you, every position he wanted to bend you into, every sound he wanted to force out of your mouth while the cameras kept recording.

And somehow, what excited him even more was the thought of filming it all. Editing it afterward. Watching you fall apart for him frame by frame.

“Shh,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay.”

Your watery eyes lifted toward him immediately. “I’ll teach you how to film, hmm?” he said mockingly.

“W-What?” Your lips parted in disbelief.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression.

“Gonna show you the right angles, baby,” he cooed. “What do you think?” He smiled without humor.

The contrast made you shiver. “B-But…”

“Will you cooperate with me?” he asked, voice smooth and almost condescending, like he was speaking to a child. His fingers tapped lightly against one of the cameras beside him. “We wouldn’t want these cameras to go to waste, would we?”

Your throat tightened. Part of you wanted to disappear completely. To book the next flight home, apologize profusely, and somehow repay every expense he wasted on you.

But another part of you—the younger version buried deep inside your chest, the girl who once stayed up all night watching his videos and smiling at her screen—couldn’t let go of this moment.

Because despite everything, Jungkook still hadn’t thrown you out.

He wasn’t yelling at you.

He was giving you another chance.

And maybe that meant you still had an opportunity to prove yourself.

Thousands of people probably wanted your position right now. Yet somehow, he was still here. Patient enough to teach you himself.

Completely unaware of how dangerous that patience actually was.

Because the lessons Jungkook had in mind were nothing like the ones you were expecting.

So slowly, you nodded.

Hope flickered weakly beneath your embarrassment while your thoughts tangled themselves around one desperate need: to impress him somehow.

“Okay,” you whispered nervously. “I—I learn fast when someone’s teaching me and…”

Jungkook raised a thick brow at you. “Pretty girl’s a fast learner, huh?”

Your cheeks immediately reddened again. You nodded shyly despite the obvious teasing in his tone, unconsciously pouting a little from embarrassment.

His eyes went down to your lips, eyes darkening. “Can you count the cameras for me?” he asked a bit impatiently.

You glanced around quickly toward the setup.

The two cameras mounted on tripods.

The camcorder in his hand.

“There’s three,” you answered softly.

Jungkook chuckled under his breath. “Good job, baby.” he slowly lifted the camcorder higher, zooming the lens closer toward your face.

“Now look here.”

You shyly looked into the camera lens, your cheeks dusted with pink beneath the warm lights.

The way Jungkook stared at you through the camcorder made you shrink into yourself slightly, suddenly aware of every little movement you made on the bed.

He tilted his head slowly. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Heat crawled up your neck as you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress, fingers curling slightly into the sheets. The entire situation suddenly felt strangely intimate, and for a second your thoughts drifted somewhere dangerous before you quickly forced yourself to focus again.

This is just a demo! He’s teaching you.

“Open the first few buttons of your top,” he said, voice quieter now as he continued looking at you through the camcorder.

Your eyes widened instantly.

Did I hear that right?

“W-What?” you nearly choked out, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast despite how badly this entire situation could end for you.

And somehow, against all logic, excitement started curling through your stomach.

“Need you to cooperate, baby,” he answered smoothly. “Come on, do a nice show for me.”

The teasing edge in his tone made your stomach twist nervously.

You hesitated for a moment before slowly bringing your shaky fingers toward your top, feeling painfully aware of the cameras pointed at you from different angles.

Jungkook watched carefully through the lens, adjusting the focus ring slightly while observing the framing.

“That’s it.” he encouraged.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, fingers trembling as you slowly undid the first few buttons of your blouse. Heat crawled up the back of your neck, burning the tips of your ears as the reality of the situation settled deeper beneath your skin.

He’s filming a sex tape.

You were so fucking stupid because instead of panicking properly, instead of running or completely losing your mind, you were following him blindly. Worse...you were getting excited.

Fuck, you should’ve been crashing out right now.

But the way he looked at you— God.

It felt like he wanted to devour you whole. His dark eyes dragged over every inch of exposed skin with quiet hunger, liquid heat pulsed embarrassingly between the gap of your thighs before you could stop it.

“Open your eyes baby, stare at the camera.” he said firmly, an obvious edge underneath it.

You slowly opened your eyes. Your cheeks were already burning, breath uneven as you finished unbuttoning the last one, revealing just enough of your chest to make your thoughts scatter. The camera lens felt heavier now, more invasive, like it was watching you breathe, waiting for you to make the wrong move.

“Hmm…touch your breasts baby, give it a nice squeeze for me.” he whispered, still holding the camcorder, directing it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what every angle captured.

Completely under his control, you obeyed, your hands moving hesitantly at first before you held yourself through the fabric, giving a light squeeze that made your breath hitch. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stay steady, trying to keep your eyes locked on the camera like he told you, even as your vision softened at the edges and your body betrayed your focus.

The room felt smaller now. You were getting so wet.

Jungkook let out a low groan, eyes still fixed through the lens.

“Remove your top, wanna see your pretty nipples.”

Your ears burned red at the filthy undertone. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled your top off, revealing the white lace bra beneath. The delicate fabric hugged the soft swell of your breasts perfectly, and the moment Jungkook’s eyes settled on them through the camera lens, another wave of heat rushed through your body.

You slowly tugged at the first strap, then the second, freeing your breasts as your nipples hardened, flushed and sensitive against the cool air.

“That’s it,” he instructed, voice steady. “Roll those pretty nipples for me.”

You obeyed, pinching them gently before rolling them between your fingers. Your lips parted at the rush of sensation that followed, breath catching as your panties got more stickier with your arousal.

When your gaze dropped, you noticed the strain in his black shorts—the obvious tent pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that despite his composed, professional expression as he filmed you, he wasn’t unaffected.

He groaned, zooming in on how you were rolling and pinching your nipples, his cock throbbing at the sight, precum leaking from its mushroom tip.

“Bring your hand to your mouth,” he ordered, directing the camera at your face. “Now, spit on it.”

You whimpered. Like a good girl, you gathered your saliva and spat thickly onto your palms, showing it to him after.

He bit his lower lip, his cock getting so hard from your submissiveness. “Good girl, now rub it on your nipples—make it nice and wet for me,” he rasped.

You rubbed the spit on your breast, the warm, sticky fluid on your nipples feeling so raw and dirty, spreading the saliva messily as he watched you through the lens with hooded eyes.

You were getting so horny, the dirty act turning you on so much that you could feel your panties sticking to your core.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, slowly reaching toward you. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”

You looked so pretty—your neatly done hair now slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from all the things he’d been instructing you to do, pebbled nipples glistening under the camera lights. Your legs trembled slightly, aching to be touched, your lips parting every now and then as your breath turned uneven, eyes hazy and unfocused.

The sight made Jungkook’s cock throb painfully hard.

His pretty little doll.

He handed you the camcorder. “Hold this, baby. Show them who’s making you this wet.”

With shaky hands and glossy eyes, you took the camera and tried to point it toward him, your eyes rolling back when he removed his white polo shirt and black shorts, leaving him in his gray Calvin Klein boxers.

You whimpered as you could see the outline of his huge cock, precum leaking at the tip, wetting the center of the cloth.

“Your angle is wrong,” he raised a brow, noticing how your shaky hands were failing a bit at holding the camera properly.

You panicked. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out, trying to straighten it, ignoring the painful pulses between your legs—your body begging to be touched.

He chuckled, leaning over you. “It’s okay, baby. That’s why we have another camera.”

His hands came up to your cheeks, gently holding and angling your face to the right so you could look toward the second camera set up by the side of the bed. “I bet you’d look so good getting fucked from that angle,” he whispered.

His grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, squishing them just enough as the camera captured everything—the way your eyes fluttered, the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way your legs shifted restlessly, searching for any kind of friction.

You gasped loudly when his free hand went down to cup your pussy through your pants, your eyes rolling back as he felt the wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck, let me see how wet you are, yeah?”

With one hand, he unzipped your pants, pulling them down in one forceful motion while his other hand remained on your cheeks, keeping your gaze fixed on the camera. Your other hand trembled as it tried to capture what he was doing below.

“Capture this, baby,” he breathed, guiding your hand holding the camcorder to angle it downward, towards your wet pussy.

You almost dropped the camera when he suddenly slapped your cunt, your panties nearly see-through from how wet they were with your arousal.

“Jungkook~” you whimpered.

He sat up and held both of your legs, spreading them wider until your ankles were almost on either side of the bed.

“You’re so wet, I can see your cute little slit through your panties baby.” He chuckled, leaning down and hollowing his cheeks to spit right above your clothed clit, making it even messier.

You whimpered, your toes curling at the sensation, gripping the camcorder tightly as you felt him crouch down, spreading his spit over your panties. His warm tongue then licked along your pussy through the fabric, slotting between your folds, the wet material pressing inside your slit.

“Make sure the camera can see how good I’m gonna eat this pussy.” He whispered while looking at you, flipping your panties to the side and groaning when he saw how wet and pink you were, his jaw slackening as he took almost your whole pussy into his warm mouth.

It was so wet and messy, and you could see him through the mini screen of the camcorder, maintaining direct eye contact with the lens while eating you out, making sure to pull back your hood so the camera could capture how his lips would wrapped around your swollen clit.

He suctioned around it, spreading more spit, sucking as if his life depended on it, then moved down to gather your juices before sliding his hot tongue inside you, coaxing more from you. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, showing you how he drank every bit of your wetness.

“That feels so g-good.” You moaned, trying to zoom in on how his tongue played with your folds.

He hummed, the vibrations making you twitch in pleasure.

“Yeah? This feels good?” he asked, sucking harshly on your clit as your eyes rolled back, your release building up fast. Your pussy throbbed, your clit growing more sensitive with every passing second.

“I’m gonna-’’

You moaned loudly when he buried his face deeper, never letting go of your throbbing clit, his head moving from side to side as he groaned low against you. When he finally let go of your clit, you gasped as he gathered a thick amount of saliva, hollowing his cheeks to spit harshly down on you, then leaning back in with his tongue out to spread it in slow, kitten-like licks.

When he looked up again at the lens, you exploded, your orgasm so intense you could feel your pussy pulsating so hard you almost saw stars.

‘’Stop, please!” You whined, overstimulated as he kept licking your cunt, your legs shaking from the oversensitivity.

His chin and nose were soaked, his lips slightly red and pouty, his dark locks messy, and his pupils dilated. You gasped when he suddenly removed his boxers; his cock was hard and pretty, curving slightly upward, decorated with thick veins and a red, swollen mushroom tip.

Jungkook took the camera and angled it towards you, wide glossy eyes looking up at him weakly.

“Say… thank you for making me cum, Jungkook.” He breathed, his other hand gripping his cock as he spread the precum along his shaft.

“Thank you for m-making me cum, Jungkook.” You croaked, your legs still trembling from your intense orgasm.

He smiled proudly. “My smart girl, very good at following instructions,” he praised, placing the camcorder down beside you and angling it so it could capture how his mouth leaned down to suck your nipples, while his free hand squeezed and rolled the other bud between his fingers.

“Jungkook—” you moaned as his tongue twirled and sucked around your breast, just like he had done to your clit—messy and pouty with saliva.

He bit your nipple playfully, earning a soft whimper from you, his tattooed hand reaching down to cup your swollen pussy.

You gasped when he inserted his middle finger, your walls tightening around the intrusion.

“You’re so tight and warm.” He murmured against your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before moving to suck on the other one.

You whimpered, your pussy growing wetter from the way he sucked and played with your nipples, the pad of his middle finger brushing against your spongy spot, making you writhe in pleasure.

“Please- too much.” You moaned, his middle finger going so deep that his knuckles were hitting your ass, his finger curling in a “come here” motion inside you, rubbing your spot deliciously as your tight hole produced more juices, the feeling of your previous release being pushed inside you making you tremble.

He let go of your nipple and leaned in immediately, pouty lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, messy and demanding, tangling with yours as the kiss deepened and turned overwhelming.

At the same time, his other hand moved up to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around the column of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as he held you in place.

Your lips parted in response, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue deeper, exploring every corner of your mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing your whines and protests.

His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, impossibly close to your wet pussy, grinding lightly as he shifted. You could feel his precum, warm and slick, and the firm pressure of his mushroom tip against your skin made you bite back a shaky breath, a mix of pleasure and nerves twisting together inside you.

Your walls tightened around his finger, making it almost impossible for him to move it from how tightly your pussy gripped him.

He groaned, biting your lip and nudging your thighs wider with his legs, inserting another finger and making you gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. He swallowed your moans, almost bruising your tongue from the way he was kissing you, the air in your lungs growing limited every time he squeezed your throat.

“Shh, behave for the camera.” he whispered, his thumb caressing your throat while his middle and ring fingers rubbed your spongy spot in slow circles.

Tears fell from your eyes, the overstimulation and edging making you cry from pain. You had already come, but you wanted to cum again so badly, your pussy aching and throbbing for another release, his fingers brushing your g-spot in a teasing, ticklish way, making you shake and move your legs in protest.

“Let me cum again, please, please…” you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He gripped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp for air. “Aww, you wanna come again?” he cooed.

You nodded desperately, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled at you. “So polite.” he said, lazily grabbing the camcorder from the side and angling it down towards your spent pussy. “Spread wide, baby.”

You immediately held your ankles, making yourself completely open for him, desperate for release, your body aching from denied pleasure.

He angled the camera at your twitching hole, filming how your wetness dripped down the sheets. He held his hard cock, spitting down onto his shaft and pumping it a few times before angling himself towards your wet cunt.

You gasped loudly when his blunt head entered your hole, biting your lip harshly at the foreign intrusion, the stretch nearly overwhelming you from his swollen mushroom tip alone.

“So big…” you whimpered, holding your ankles tightly as a new wave of tears gathered in your eyes.

Your breath hitched, trembling as you tried to adjust, the sensation stealing every coherent thought from your mind.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, zooming in on your wet cunt to capture how your walls were sucking him in.

“Your pussy looks so good on camera baby, so tight and pretty.” He grunted, pushing halfway in and earning a loud moan from you.

His bangs stuck to his forehead, his lip ring catching the light as he bit down on his lower lip. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, veins tracing along his neck, flushed and taut with effort. Even like this, he held the camera with unnerving steadiness, like nothing about the moment could shake his focus.

So steady and professional at producing sex tapes.

When he bottomed out, you almost fainted, the stretch overwhelming—painful yet intoxicating—as he pressed fully against you. His balls settled deep, his pelvis flush with yours, the soft trim of hair brushing your clit each time he rolled his hips.

He groaned harshly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his jaw clenching as your walls enveloped him.

“Relax, baby—you’re gripping me,” he groaned weakly, this time angling the camera toward your face.

You whimpered, trying to cover your face with your small hands, but he caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His sudden hard thrusts made your body bounce slightly with every movement, leaving you breathless.

“Don’t be shy, baby—show your pretty face to the camera,” he drawled lazily, angling it towards your flushed expression.

“Show them how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, rolling his hips against you. The curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, buried so deep that he barely pulled out at all—only circling his hips, grinding in a way that made it feel like he wanted to push even further. The sensation drew a sharp arch through your back.

His gaze stayed locked on you through the screen, lips parted, breath uneven—like he was caught between control and losing it. The way your pussy gripped him made his cock throb, his expression darkening with something possessive and unspoken. 

“Look at you, whimpering like a pretty little slut.” he said in a condescending tone.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You pouted, your walls tightening around him at his degrading tone.

He raised a brow. “Oh really? You think a lot of people won’t agree once I upload this?”

Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your flushed face as his thrusts turned harsher and sloppier, the rhythm giving away how close he was getting. You were almost impressed that he was still managing to keep the camera steady.

“N-No, you are not gonna do that,” you panicked, your eyes wide and glossy, your small hands trying to push the camera away.

He grunted, his cock throbbing as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He shifted just enough to avoid the camera when you reached for it, tightening his grip around both your wrists so you couldn’t move.

“You like that, huh? Come on, pretty—let me film you properly.” He snapped his hips harder, angling the lens toward you while your bodies met in sharp, rhythmic collisions.

The friction made your breath hitch, your clit brushing against his pubic hair in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. His grip tightened around the camcorder, breathing uneven as he watched you come apart through the screen, completely drunk on the sounds you were making for him.

“Moan louder.” he commanded.

You moaned loudly, your chest rising and falling as his harsh movements made your body react against him. His eyes rolled back slightly from the way you kept pulsating around him, every drag sending him deeper into overstimulation.

He bit his lip. “My dirty girl, getting fucked on film.” he rasped.

Then, abruptly, he let go of the camcorder and set it aside.

A soft sound escaped him as he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Before you could fully register it, he was already moving you—pulling your body forward and repositioning you in front of him.

He settled behind you, guiding you into place so that you were now facing the cameras on the tripod, your body fully on display while his broad chest and hard cock pressed close from behind.

“You see those two cameras baby?’’ he whispered behind your ear, spreading your legs wide.

“Yes.” you replied weakly.

You gasped loudly when he entered you from behind, your body settling against his lap as his thighs kept your legs spread wide, positioning you so the camera could clearly capture the way he entered you.

“Smile for them baby, need some footage from this angle.’’ He cooed softly, thrusting his hips upward while his other arm circled around your waist to keep you steady.

You moaned, trembling so badly when you saw how the lights caught both of your bodies—the glittering sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup, and his tattooed colored arms all captured in high definition under the harsh glow.

"My pretty pretty girl, should I post this? show them how I fuck?" he murmured against your skin before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his tongue brushing lightly over the dampness left behind by your earlier tears.

The tenderness of it contrasted so badly with the hunger in his voice that it made your breath hitch. His hand cradled your face carefully, thumb stroking beneath your eye as though he was soothing you and provoking you at the same time, and the way he looked at you through half-lidded eyes made heat rush straight to your chest.

He suddenly grabbed the clip-on mic from your necklace, your eyes widening as you realized he was angling it downward—towards where his cock met your pussy.

“Need to test the mic baby, let the viewers hear how much of a nasty slut you are.”

The mic was so close that every sound was picked up clearly—the wet, obscene squelches echoing as he pushed and pulled inside you, the way he dragged against your tight heat sounding even more intense through the recording. The noise alone felt almost sinful in how loud and wet it was.

“I bet they can hear how tight your pussy is.” he grunted, putting the mic closer to your cunt.

He could feel how slick everything had become, wetting his balls each time he pushed, your arousal makes each movement messier.

“Gonna cum, oh gosh.” You moaned, your body growing hypersensitive as your clit throbbed with the pressure of an approaching orgasm.

He grabbed both of your cheeks when he noticed your head starting to fall back from pleasure, forcing you to look straight at the camera in front of you. “Be a good girl and look at the lens, don’t want my content to be bad quality.’’

His other hand clipped the mic back onto your necklace before sliding down again, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm edged closer and closer.

“Cum for me baby, show them your cute little juices.” 

Your legs were shaking when you finally reached your orgasm, your clit throbbing so intensely, your limbs giving out as your body hit its peak. Your swollen bud pulsed uncontrollably in fast, erratic heart beats, your walls clenching around his cock as he was still thrusting inside you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head when you felt your orgasm stretch further from his deep thrusts, his mushroom tip brushing against your g-spot and dragging you straight into another wave. You came again, consecutively, your body twitching as overstimulation took over, your legs instinctively trying to close.

"J-Jungkook I can't anymore."

Jungkook forced your legs to stay open, his index and middle fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for the camera, showing how your clit pulsed beneath the warm lights while his cock remained buried deep inside you.

''Mhm.. spit on your clit baby, make it extra wet before I use you." he whispered.

You squirmed, obediently leaning down as his fingers kept you spread open. With trembling breaths, you gathered saliva on your tongue before letting it drip down onto your clit, both cameras capturing the filthy sight in sharp detail.

A low curse slipped past Jungkook’s lips at the view, his grip tightening instinctively as he watched you, completely consumed by the way you willingly put yourself on display for him.

He quickly flipped your body down to chase his own pleasure, entering you again and sloppily thrusting into your wet used walls, pushing your cum deeper and deeper inside you. You were so weak, your heart still racing as you weakly reached for the camcorder to film him.

When he saw what you were doing, he groaned harshly, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it bordered on bruising as he held you down.

“My smart girl, you learned well huh?” He praised you, thrusting fast and hard, the camcorder shaking in your grip as you tried to capture his deep strokes.

"Your little brain functioning well with my cock deep inside you.'' he muttered darkly, thumb brushing against your cheek as he watched your expression unravel for him.

“A-Am I doing a good job?” you asked softly, biting your lip as you adjusted the camera to capture his face this time.

He let out a low growl in response, movements losing their rhythm slightly as pleasure started pulling him apart at the edges. “Uh-huh,” he breathed heavily. “You can be my personal little porn star. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A loud moan escaped you at the thought, heat rushing instantly to your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the camcorder, suddenly far too eager to keep filming him.

“Gonna fuck you anytime I want,” he breathed, dilated eyes locked on you through the lens. “Film it however I like.”

With a harsh final thrust, he came inside you, grunting as he pushed through the last of it, staying buried as he finished, his body still tense with the release. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, warm cum spilling and pooling, some of it leaking out and staining the sheets beneath you while he stayed balls deep.

The camcorder slipped from your grip, forgotten as you breathed heavily beneath him. You were completely spent, still sensitive as his hips gave a few slow, instinctive movements, as if trying to push his cum deeper despite his softening cock.

“Jungkook?” you asked weakly, fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft ruffles of his hair.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your neck, lips pressing lazy kisses there, his cock still buried deep inside you. The red recording lights on the cameras kept blinking steadily in the background.

“A-Are you really gonna post this?” you bit your lip, glancing back at the two large cameras perched on the tripod.

Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, teeth grazing your skin in a teasing bite. “Mhm. I still need to edit it though.”

“Jungkook!” you squealed, panicking again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and sharp with need, still carrying that lingering haze of desire. “Do you even know how to edit?” he asked, eyes squinting in playful doubt.

Your eyes widened. “I can edit,” you insisted quickly. “I learned a few things… I kinda know the basics.” Your voice softened at the end, almost uncertain.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he slowly pulled out, earning a shaky breath from you before he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

“Hmm. Okay…” he murmured softly, lifting the camcorder slightly between you. “Edit this video for me, then.”

“What, r-really?” you blinked, surprised that he was letting you work for him.

“Uh-huh,” he said casually. “Then we’ll see if I have to keep you or not.”

You pouted instantly at that, but he was already shifting away from you, looking at the camcorder and checking the footage with the ease of someone far too experienced at this.

The screen’s glow reflected faintly against his handsome face as he replayed a few clips, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Even now, completely relaxed, he somehow still looked annoyingly professional.

“Okay…” you mumbled softly, a little disappointment slipping into your voice before you could hide it.

He noticed immediately.

A smirk pulled at his lips as he lifted the camcorder slightly, teasing you with it. “Make sure you include your pretty moans, baby,” he drawled. “Or else we’ll have to retake this again.”

He stood up then, completely unbothered, removing the cameras from their tripods like the decision had already been made long before you realized it.

Retake.

Oh. He was definitely keeping you.

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